halflife
by sol invictus
Summary: Zack and Cody manage to survive the outbreak of the zombie apocalypse but can they stay alive in the ruined aftermath?
1. Chapter 1

Zack was sitting on the couch, absently rubbing his fingers along the silk edge of a blanket, as his eyes studied the pile of furniture sitting in front of the door to their suite. Carey's large dresser was the centerpiece of the creation, fronted by Zack's dresser and topped with the trunk from the foot of Cody's bed. Two Louisville Slugger baseball bats leaned against the wall near the pile.

His eyes traveled from the door to the kitchen and took in the collection of pots and pans and pitchers and bottles and anything else they could find filled with water sitting on every available inch of counter space. And the bathtub, too, he reminded himself. They'd filled that up as well after the enormity of the situation began to emerge.

Zack turned his head a bit further and saw his brother standing in front of the patio door. He had one hand pushing the curtain far enough away from the glass to catch a glimpse of the scene on the street many many floors below. Cody would shake his head now and then at what he saw but aside from that remained motionless. Occasional flickers of orange light slid across his face.

"It's getting worse out there, Zack. They're everywhere now. There's got to be hundreds of them." He cupped his hands around his face and leaned closer to the glass.

"Come away from there, Cody. You've seen enough for the night," Zack told him after another minute. Cody slowly let the curtain fall back into place and stepped away.

"There's another fire out there. A big one this time," Cody told his brother. "I think it's somewhere over by our school but I'm not sure."

Under normal circumstances, Zack would have rejoiced at the idea of his school catching fire and being reduced to piles of ash and lumps of melted plastic. Circumstances were anything but normal now and hadn't been for almost a week, though. His eyes drifted to the phone as part of his brain told him to call 911. "Yeah, who's going to put it out?" he whispered softly. The only sirens either boy had heard in the last three days were random car alarms.

"Hmm?" Cody asked as he joined Zack on the couch.

"Nothing. Just talking to myself a little. Still trying to make sense of all that," Zack said, gesturing toward the window. "I can't figure out how this could have happened and I still can't make myself believe it's actually happening."

"I gave up trying to figure out how it happened," Cody told him. "It's so..._insane_ I can't even put it to words. I don't even think insane is a strong enough word to describe it." He sank deeper into the cushions and leaned up against his brother. Zack put an arm around Cody's shoulders and felt his brother settle closer.

Zack picked up the remote control and aimed it at the television. He flipped through channel after channel, finding either blank screens or test patterns on nearly all of them. A few channels, mainly the news outlets, remained broadcasting despite the outbreak and did their best to provide updates and videos from around the country and world. The channel Zack finally stopped on was showing a shaky clip of a city street filled with aimlessly ambling bodies.

"We've hidden ourselves in the burned out wreckage of what I think used to be a restaurant," a man squatting slightly beside and behind the spider-webbed remains of a glass window said softly into his mic. "There's probably, what would you say, Frank? Two hundred? Two fifty now? Yeah, maybe even three hundred of these _things _in the middle of downtown." The reporter went quiet and the cameraman panned around. Hundreds of blood-spattered and disfigured bodies filled the screen.

"They've been steadily growing in number since the sun began going down. Some of them wander off in their separate ways but others always seem to arrive and take their place. That one, the one in the blue shirt – Frank? Did you hear that?" The reporter turned to look behind the cameraman and his shock-widened eyes were caught in the middle of the television's screen. "Shit! Get to the truck, Frank! They got in behind us." The image started to jump all over the screen as both men tried to scramble to their feet. "Come on, Frank! Forget the damn camera! We've got to get out of here!" Moans and grunts filled the audio as the camera fell to the floor, landing perfectly to catch the reporter going down under a pile of clawing hands and gnashing teeth. A mumbled _oh fuck _was heard, followed two seconds later by a gunshot. The camera shook as a body fell close by and the lens showed a growing pool of blood before the video mercifully ended.

"I'd like to deeply apologize for that last piece," the anchor said from his desk when he returned to the screen. "We just received that from our bureau in Baltimore and no one had previewed it yet. Had we, I promise you we would have given warning for its intensity." The fuming anchor threw a perfectly undisguised scowl at everyone behind the camera. "We're going to take a short break and when we return, we'll have a representative live from the CDC with their latest update on the situation."

Cody's horrified mind kept replaying the sound of the gunshot as he tried to focus on the short break. He tried to imagine turning a gun on himself like that and his skin crawled. The anchor reappeared and turned his attention to a monitor and the interview began. They watched and listened, hoping for any new information about what the hell was going on. The minutes passed and their hopes faded as it became clear that this was simply another rehash of what had been said for the last five days: _We're confident that we'll soon have the situation under control _and _We are still in charge. _Nothing new.

"That's enough. Turn it off, Zack."

"Yeah," Zack shook his head and hit the power button. "Do you believe anything they're saying, Cody?"

"Not a single bit except for when they say they still don't know what it is. Everything else is a lie. If they had everything under control there wouldn't be a fire burning in the middle of Boston. If they were in charge we wouldn't be essentially trapped in a hotel surrounded by a sea of zombies. They would have sent the Army in and got us out of here. But they're not so they can't. And do you know what gets me the most?"

"What?"

He turned slightly and faced Zack. "They won't call them zombies even though that's exactly what they are. The only thing they could be. Not a single person on the news has used the word once since it all started." Cody became animated and Zack put a hand out to calm him down.

"Easy, Cody. Don't get all worked up about it," Zack told him. "I think you're right, though," he said after he considered it for a moment.

"I know I am. Not once."

"Maybe they can't say it. Like someone told them not to."

"Possibly. But that's still stupid. What's calling them what they really are going to do that seeing them out there hasn't already done? Freak us out more? Not likely." Cody sat back against the couch and pushed his hair back. "It just irks me."

"Okay, Cody. I get it. It makes you mad. Now chill out already."

The boys sat in relative quiet for the next little while until it began to get closer and closer to ten o'clock. Zack got up and retrieved his phone from the charger and brought it back over and set it on the arm of the couch. Cody kept checking his watch and Zack's eyes continually drifted to the clock on the wall while they waited for the phone to ring. And waited.

"She'll call, Cody. It's probably still pretty crazy in the safe zone," Zack offered as the hands on the clock neared half past ten.

"That's probably it," Cody said, hiding his apprehension. They'd been able to communicate with their mother with relatively few problems for the first few days after everything went to hell but it became much harder when part of New York City's power grid went down, taking most of the city's hundreds of cell towers with it. Carey had to find spots with working landlines or cell coverage while remaining as invisible as possible. The problems were supposed to have been alleviated once the survivors were rounded up and put in a improvised safe zone, but the twins hadn't seen much improvement. Carey had told them it took nearly an hour to get through to them earlier that afternoon.

"Her phone might have finally died so she just needs to find someone with a phone that works," Zack continued, but Cody had already concluded that he was trying to reassure himself more than his brother. "Or a charger. Maybe it's charging now, Cody. Or she might be waiting in line to use one of the army's phones."

"I know, Zack. She'll call when she can." Cody took up the role of comforting brother and put an arm around Zack's shoulders while he tried to figure how incredibly long the odds were of his mother leaving for a day in a recording studio in Manhattan at the same time as the appearance of the wave of zombies. "Impossibly long," he said to no one.

"What's impossibly long?" Cody explained and Zack nodded. "I always said her singing could raise the dead."

"Terrible joke," Cody forced a laugh and they both fell silent. He picked the remote up after a moment and flicked the television back on. Boston had gone dark the night before but they still had electricity thanks to the Tipton's balky old emergency generator. How much longer would that last? Cody guessed no more than another day, maybe two if they were lucky.

"We still need to find flashlights," he told Zack as the idea occurred to him.

"There's one in Mom's closet, isn't there?"

"I think so but I'm not sure. We should look in the other suites, Zack. On this floor at least."

"Mom told us not to leave the suite, remember?" Zack's voice took on a slight edge.

Cody held his tongue, not wanting to get into another argument about it. They were going to have to leave the hotel eventually, he knew it. Probably sooner than later. Zack had to know it, too, but he wouldn't admit it for some reason. Cody couldn't understand his brother's sudden willingness to listen to rules after fourteen years of disobeying them at nearly any chance he got, especially since it had been Zack's idea when they'd left the suite twice before. "Okay. We'll find Mom's and then see what happens." That seemed to appease Zack and they both let the subject drop for the time being.

Cody eventually went back to CNN and hit mute, not wanting to hear more recycled news but needing something to keep his mind occupied for a while. His eyes were drawn to the crawl at the bottom of the screen as new outbreaks scrolled across. _St Paul – confirmed. Boise – confirmed. Raleigh – confirmed. Dallas – confirmed. _The list went on but Cody's attention wavered until a blue map of the United States came up on the screen. Cody hit the mute button again.

"...shows the progression of the outbreak," a voice said a split second before the view changed to a shot of a grey-headed man in front of a large, wall-sized touch screen. "I'll set it in motion," he said, pressing an icon and stepped back. The twins watched as a few seemingly random red points around the eastern seaboard began to grow and swallow more and more of the map as time went on. When it finished, very little of the country was still blue.

"As you see, it spread with incredible rapidity," the anchor said as he played it again. "All the major cities on the east coast were infected within a day and a half and it spread across the country to the west coast in another two days."

Cody stopped listening as the man went on. How much longer could they stay in the hotel? They had food for two or three more days, maybe five if they stretched it. Plenty of water for the time being. Once the food was gone, they'd have to sneak down to the kitchen and hope they could find more. And if they couldn't? If the lower levels were full of zombies or had already been looted? Cody suppressed a shiver as he thought about having to go out on the streets. Where would they go if they had to leave?

"Wolf, I hate to interrupt but we have breaking news," a voice said from off screen. The camera panned over to a desk with a harried looking man behind it. _Breaking News _appeared in a box to the man's right only to be replaced with _NYC Safe Zone Collapses_. Cody's eyes went wide and he distantly heard Zack drop the phone on the floor beside him.

"Oh no," Cody said softly, his mouth agape.

"That's where Mom is. Please tell me it's not!" Zack begged. Cody couldn't.

"We've just received word," the man at the desk announced, "that the newly formed safe zone set up in New York City has been overrun. Do we have the video? Is it ready? Parents, if you have small children around, I strongly advise you to have them leave the room." The anchor went quiet as he gave time. "Roll it."

The video started with a sweeping shot of dozens of desert camouflaged vehicles sitting behind a huge fence of cement, chain link, and razor wire. Outside the fence was a good twenty feet of open space contained by another fence. People were sitting around on anything they could find, everything from plastic jugs and oil barrels to cinder blocks and empty ammunition crates, eating from military MREs and talking quietly. The camera zoomed in on one bedraggled woman and for a second both boys thought it was their mother.

"Is that...no, it's not," Zack said, sitting back down after nearly jumping to his feet. The relative quiet of the video continued for another few seconds before a shout broke it.

"They're gathering on the outer wall!" The camera jumped to the left to show countless bodies pressing against the fence. The picture zoomed in and Cody swore he saw one of the zombies biting the chain link before it panned away. "Get them off the fence!" an authoritative voice yelled and less than a second later red streaks of light reached out to the mass of zombies. The bullets found their mark but did little but make most of the zombies twitch.

"They won't go down!" Someone yelled, followed almost immediately by "They've breached the outer wall!" A large section of the outer fence began falling inward and was trampled down by hundreds of the undead. As they watched, explosions went off in the midst of the zombies, blowing gaping holes in their lines that quickly reformed as more and more spilled into the gap.

"Mines," Cody said softly as another went off. A mangled leg fell from the sky a dozen feet from the camera and it momentarily panned down before zooming back to the wall. Almost as one, every gun that could be brought to bear on the breach opened up. The camera focused on a tank rumbling from behind a handful of temporary tents. The soldier in the tank's cupola took aim and its flame-belching machine gun lit up the night. Cody's mind warped at the thought of an Abrahms in the middle of New York City.

"Why isn't the big gun shooting, Cody?" Zack asked in a voice that made Cody wish he'd sent Zack out of the room.

"It's too close for the-" Cody stopped in mid-sentence as the interior fence began to bow under the weight of hundreds upon hundreds of zombies. "Oh no," he said as it reached the tipping point and began to fall. Cody snapped his jaw shut as dozens of screams and the ignition of diesel engines filled the audio. Dozens of panicked survivors ran in all directions, a few heeding soldiers' calls to trucks and other vehicles, most oblivious to them. The camera shook as the tank's big gun did finally open up but by then it was too late.

"What...what about Mom?" Zack asked, a look of terror on his face crossing his face.

"I don't know, Zack. I really don't."

"She's okay, right? You think she's okay?"

The last few seconds of the video ran though his mind. "Zack...I...I'm sure she is." He laid his head on the back of the couch and looked up at the ceiling and did his best not to cry.

"What now, Cody? What do we do?"

"I think it's time we leave." Zack didn't respond for a handful of heartbeats.

"Yeah, I guess it is." Cody could see how crushed he was. He'd been banking on Carey's eventual return from New York City, waiting for the happy ending, and now that he could see that it wasn't going to happen, it had broken him. Cody could see his eyes growing wet. "Not much left for us in Boston, is there?"

"No, there isn't."

"It's not fair, Cody. She was just supposed to be gone for a day! And when she came back we were going to celebrate!" The anguish in Zack's voice hurt Cody's heart.

"I know, Zack, I know."

"Why?" Zack's tough outer shell had cracked earlier and now it was shattering. "Why?" he turned and buried his face in the couch and began pounding the cushion. One last _why? _came out in a strangled yelp before he dissolved in sobs. Cody reached out to pull him close and after a few seconds of resisting, Zack let him and hugged back just as tightly. It was nearly midnight before either boy let go.

"You okay?" Cody asked as he looked his brother over.

"Yeah," Zack told him as he rubbed his red eyes. "I don't think I have any tears left for now."

"Neither do I," Cody sniffed. "Sorry about your shoulder."

Zack looked down and smiled a shaky smile. "Better than drool, I guess." Cody smiled with him. "We're on our own now, aren't we?"

"Pretty much."

"So where do we go, Cody?"

"Somewhere south. Maybe west. Away from here, that's for sure. What about Aunt Jolene's farm?"

"That's...a long way from here," Zack said with a whistle.

"I know. It's also about in the dead center of the middle of nowhere. No big cities, no thousands of zombies."

"We haven't been there in years. Do you even remember where it is?"

"Sort of. I know Mom has the address in her little book," Cody told him.

"I guess that's as good as anywhere else right now. When do we leave?"

_I've wanted to do a zombie story with the TSL characters for years and I decided it was time. Hope you enjoy it._


	2. Chapter 2

Cody stood behind his brother, watching as Zack tried to pick the lock on the room's door. "C'mon...open already," he muttered as he moved the pin around.

"Do I even want to where you learned how to do this, Zack?"

"Not that it really matters anymore but no, you probably don't. _Dammit!_ Apparently I didn't learn it all that good," he said as he stood up and looked around.

"Well."

"Well what?" Zack asked as he strode across the hall and ripped a fire extinguisher from the wall. He raised it over his head and brought its base down squarely on the knob, twisting the metal and splintering the wood.

"Nothing." Cody pulled the remains of the lock from the door and pushed it open as his brother tossed the extinguisher on the carpet.

"I'll tell you one thing, Cody. We're not doing this all night. This is the tenth suite we've been in and we haven't found anything remotely useful except some little kid's Spiderman backpack and a box of Oreos. And they're those nasty mint Oreos so they don't even count." Zack picked his baseball bat up and followed his brother inside the room.

"I know. I was hoping that there'd be something good in at least one of the rooms."

"Why couldn't somebody have checked in with a bunch of body armor and swords?" Zack asked as he scouted the room, pulling open a large wardrobe and finding nothing but clothes many many sizes too large for them.

"Maybe someone did and they used them to get out of here," Cody said as he picked through a closet.

"You know what we need to find?" Zack asked, continuing as if he didn't hear Cody's last remark. He didn't wait for his brother to answer before answering his obviously rhetorical question. "Shotguns. Lots of shotguns."

"I doubt we'll find any of those, either." Zack continued his chattering as they finished the room. Cody was glad his brother had recovered from the shock of earlier but he wished Zack would give it a little rest. "I think we're done here. Should we even bother with another room?"

"No," Zack told him. "I think if we were going to find anything we'd already have found it."

Cody started to argue but stopped. He'd already suggested they try one more room three times and he knew it was just a stall. Looking in an eleventh and then a twelfth room would just put the inevitable off a bit longer. It was time to do it. "You're right. We'll just have to outfit ourselves somewhere else. There's bound to be a mall on our way out of the city."

Zack stopped in his tracks. "A _mall, _Cody? Didn't you learn anything from all those zombie movies I made you watch with me?"

"No, I usually had my head buried under a blanket so I didn't notice all that much."

"Ha," Zack laughed, "that's true. But malls are the last place you want to go when zombies happen."

"Wait a minute. Those were movies, Zack."

"Yeah, but think about it. Do you think you're the only person in Boston that thought about going to a mall after all this happened? Everyone goes to the mall in the movies. What if one of those people happened to be bit and turned while they were in the mall and they bit their friend and then the friend bit the next person that went to the mall and so on and so on. You'd have a mall crawling with zombies just waiting for you to walk in. You'd be munched on before the door even closed behind you. It would be like a zombie assembly line."

Cody was dumbstruck and it was a few seconds before he could speak. "Zack, that is probably the most ridiculous thing you've ever said. However," he said as Zack began to protest, "it's probably also right."

"Of course it is."

"So where do we get our gear?"

"Hopefully we'll come across some little outdoors shop and we can get whatever we need there. If we don't...we'll have to get lucky and pick things up piece by piece."

"You've thought about this before, haven't you?" Cody asked as they left the room and headed back to their own suite. "You've planned what you'd do if this ever happened."

"I have," Zack admitted. "You don't think I actually paid attention in class every day, do you?"

Cody grinned and shook his head. "Let's go, George Romero."

"Who's that?"

"Don't worry about it."

As they walked back to their room, Cody began to feel an invisible weight pressing down on him, pushing on him, telling him that they needed to leave _now. _It was the mother of all bad feelings. He stopped Zack and put a finger to his lips and listened.

"What?" Zack said in a whisper once Cody started moving again.

"I don't know, Zack. Something isn't right. Don't you feel it?"

"No. You'd better not be trying to spook me, Cody."

"I'm not. I swear." They reached their door and quietly pushed it open. Zack's knuckles went white around his baseball bat and he walked in slowly. Nothing looked out of the ordinary and he motioned Cody inside.

"No one's in here," he told his brother.

"I know. I still feel whatever it is. We need to get out of here fast."

"We need to pack still!"

"There isn't time, Zack. We have to go." Zack looked in Cody's eyes and saw...not quite fear, but it was close. Whatever it was, Cody was serious. "Grab us each a change of clothes and I'll grab some food and water. We'll get everything else we need once we're out of the city." After a short pause, Zack nodded and raced back to their room. Whatever had spooked his brother had started rubbing off on him.

He yanked open the drawers on their dresser and grabbed a handful of socks and underwear and a few t-shirts and stuffed them in his pack. He looked around, his eyes trying to find anything else that they might need. Finding nothing of immediate value, he grabbed the pack off the bed and headed back to the kitchen in time to see Cody stuffing two water bottles and their mother's address book into the front pocket of his pack.

"You ready?" he asked and Cody nodded.

"I think so. Let's go. The feeling is getting stronger." They were at the door when Zack suddenly stopped.

"Wait!"

"What?" Cody turned around to see Zack at the refrigerator. "I have food in the bag, Zack! Come on already."

"I'm leaving a note. For Mom. Just in case."

"Zack..."

"I know, Cody. But maybe she made it out. This way she knows where to look for us." He pulled the marker from its holder and quickly wrote out a note. _Mom, we're heading to Aunt Jolene's farm. Hope to see you there. Love you so much, Zack and Cody. _Cody's eyes started to water as he read it once Zack stepped away. "I'm ready now."

Cody could only nod as he wiped his eyes. A lance of pain stabbed through his heart, momentarily overpowering the urge to flee. "That's a good idea, Zack," he said, forcing the words through his throat.

"Let's go, Cody. You can get emotional later," Zack told him as he guided his brother to the door. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as he picked up his bat. He looked at Cody and saw him nodding. He felt it, too. "This is freaky, Cody."

"I know," was all Cody said as he pulled the door shut behind them. They were in the hall and heading for the nearest stairs when Zack stopped dead in his tracks.

"No fucking way," he said softly.

"What?" Cody asked and followed Zack's outstretched hand with his eyes. He saw the numbers over the elevator door lighting up. _21. 22. 23. Ding_. The doors opened and they saw at least a dozen zombies in the car. And the zombies saw them. Moans came from ragged throats and the corpses stumbled after them. Cody seemed rooted to the spot as they got their first real look at a zombie; part of him revolted at the sight, another part fascinated that something like them could even exist, and a third, more primal part, that was furious at being ignored when it told him to run.

The smell coming from the open elevator doors was nauseating. Zack felt his stomach do back flips as he tried to pull Cody away. "Come on, Cody," he gurgled, fighting the urge to dry heave in the middle of the hallway. When his brother didn't move he grabbed him by the hair and pulled. "Let's go!" he said as Cody yelped, breaking the spell. They scrambled for the stairs at the other end of the hallway.

"You have got to be kidding me!" Zack yelled as they skidded to a stop in front of the door. "Zombies can't use elevators."

"It seems they can," Cody said. "They were bound to hit the button for our floor eventually. It's just pure luck."

"Never happened in the movies," Zack huffed. He pulled the door open and peeked inside. "It's clear. They started sneaking their way down the steps, stopping to listen at every landing. They heard the tell-tale sounds of unlife on a few floors and gave the doors to those floors a wide berth. They were between the first and second floors when Zack pulled Cody to the side.

"You aren't going to freeze up on me again, are you?"

"No, I'm not. I'm fine now. They were just so...terrible."

"I know. I almost puked," Zack said.

"I couldn't even do that."

"It's okay. Remind me to not doubt your bad feelings again, by the way. If you'd let me ignore it they could have trapped us in our suite. Or worse." The boys quietly plotted strategy for a few moments before Zack retreated back up to the second floor landing.

"What are you doing?" Cody shouted as quietly as he could.

"Something I've always wanted to do – pee on the steps." Cody could only shake his head as he waited for Zack to finish up, trying to not hear what sounded like a troublesome zipper being pulled up as Zack did his business on the carpet.

"I can't believe you," he said when Zack took his place beside him again. "Ready?" Zack affirmed that he was. Cody crept to the door and slowly raised his head high enough to peek through the glass panel. He was taking in the lay of the lobby when he suddenly threw himself to the floor and pulled Zack down with him. They crawled to the corner of the landing after a few seconds.

"What was that about?" Zack demanded as he rubbed his elbow.

"I was looking around and one of them walked out from somewhere I couldn't see and almost saw me. I was so scared I almost pissed my pants."

"You should have peed on the steps like I did."

"No, I shouldn't have. Anyway, I think we can make it out through the main door. Most of the zombies seem to be crowded around the other end of the lobby so it should be a pretty clean shot. The other choice is trying to make our way out through the kitchen. We could possibly grab a bit more food on the way, but..."

"But the kitchen could be crawling with zombies and we could end up being their food," Zack finished.

"Exactly."

"The front door sounds good to me. Are you ready?"

Cody sighed. "As ready as I'll ever be, I guess."

"You're not about to get all _there shouldn't even _be_ zombies walking around _on me again, are you? I think the time for that stuff has passed."

"No," Cody said defensively. "I'm okay. This just isn't the way I thought we'd leave the hotel for good."

"Me neither." He put a hand on Cody's shoulder. "Ready?"

"Let's do it."

The twins gently pushed on the door and cringed as the hinges creaked ever so slightly but relaxed when it didn't seem as though the sound was noticed by any of the zombies. Cody pushed it further and they slipped out and into the lobby.

"Moseby would have kittens if he saw this disaster," Zack whispered as they made their way through the wreckage and blood and random chunks of flesh.

"I don't think he cares at the moment," Cody whispered back, nudging Zack to look near the reception desk. Moseby's tie was askew and most of his scalp was missing but it was most certainly the former manager of the Tipton.

They crept past the couches and crouched low, readying themselves for a dash to the door. Cody looked back and mouthed "on three" to his brother. Zack nodded and felt the muscles in his legs start tensing. His brother's hand moved into view and Zack watched as one finger was replaced by two and then by three. He took off like a sprinter out of the blocks after Cody. They raced across the remaining distance, Zack shoulder blocking a zombie that unexpectedly turned and ambled into their path to the ground, and reached the doors and threw themselves outside.

Cody whistled as they stood atop the steps that led down to the street. They looked around and did their best to take in the sight below them. Burned out cars, dozens of dead bodies, a handful of wandering zombies, and what looked like the remains of a hastily erected barricade filled the street. "Wow," was all he could say, his eyes focusing on a body that had had the top half of its head blown off.

"Yeah..." Zack echoed, trailing off. "This is bad. Looks like a bomb went off."

"We'd better go," Cody said, "they've seen us." As he spoke, three of the closest corpses started moving toward them. One was moving much faster than the others and drew Zack's attention.

"Which way?"

Cody took a quick scan of the street and pointed. "That way. It looks clearer. We can wind our way back over to the highway after we get out of all these big buildings." They quickly descended the steps and started weaving their way through the cars and piles of trash, trying to put as much distance between the zombies they saw without making enough noise to attract those they hadn't. It took them nearly an hour to travel ten blocks.

"We're never going to get out of the city at this rate," Cody said when they stopped for a quick water break. He passed Zack a bottle and took a long sip from his own. "We're still a long way from the 90."

Zack nodded and finished his drink. "I know. What if we stop snaking around and just go straight?"

"Uh, we'll run into the zombies we keep going around. And in case you haven't noticed, some of them can move pretty fast."

"We can outrun them."

"Maybe for a little while, Zack. I don't know if I want to get into a race with something that can't get tired." Zack fell silent as he considered Cody's point.

"You're right. Sorry, Cody."

"Nothing to be sorry about." Cody twisted his bottle closed and slipped it back into his backpack. "You set?" he offered his brother a hand.

"Yep," Zack said, letting Cody help him up.

They moved on, putting another half dozen blocks behind them. Zack was idly twirling the bat in his fingers when he stopped suddenly. They'd just edged around a corner and walked past an overturned bus and stepped right into a mass of zombies.

"Shit shit _shit!_" Zack yelled as they wheeled around and ran the other way. "Between the buildings!" he added as he pushed Cody to the right. The alley seemed clear in the moonlight until they were about halfway down and then he saw they weren't alone. They slammed on the breaks and looked back over the shoulders. "Great," Zack mumbled. They were boxed in.

"Fire escape!" Cody yelled in excitement.

"You first. I'll follow you up," Zack said as they raced back a few dozen feet. Cody began climbing the rusty ladder and Zack shifted around nervously while he waited. "C'mon, c'mon," he said as Cody struggled up the rungs. One of the zombies was too close for comfort and Zack realized he wouldn't be able to wait. He stepped forward, bat twitching over his shoulders, and swung. The bat connected and Zack felt a sickening crunch as the side of the zombie's head caved in.

"Let's go, Zack!" Cody screamed from the top of the ladder. Zack watched the body fall and ran back to the ladder and started to pull himself up. "Watch out!" He looked down just in time to see another zombie grabbing his foot.

"Get off!" Zack stomped down as hard as he could and kicked the zombie in the face. Its grip loosened slightly and Zack was able to pull his foot free. His shoe, however, remained in the zombie's hands. By the time he'd joined Cody at the top of the ladder, there was a swarm of undead at the bottom at least one hundred strong. He leaned over the rail and spat.

"You okay? You're not...you know?"

"No, I'm fine. Just lost a shoe." Zack leaned down and checked his foot just to be sure. "Yeah, I'm good."

Cody reached down and tried to pull the window open but it wouldn't budge. "Use your key," Zack told him.

"Huh?"

"Your bat, Cody."

"Oh, right." Cody swung and the window shattered. He used the end of the bat to clear the shards from the frame before gently climbing inside. He helped Zack in and they looked around at a filthy apartment. "We should check this place out before we move on," he said.

"After we eat." Cody started to argue but his stomach told him it was a good idea after all. He pulled out an almost whole loaf of bread, some lunch meat, and the rest of their cheese from his bag. They quickly made sandwiches and all but inhaled them. Zack tossed the empty cheese package over his shoulder once they were finished. "What?" he asked when Cody stared at him. "Did you not notice how dirty it is in here? I don't think it's going to matter." Cody could only shrug.

They brushed the crumbs off themselves and got up and started a quick search of the apartment.

"It's a shame the power went out because this guy has about a million pizzas in his freezer," Zack said as he checked the kitchen.

"It's a shame he never did laundry either," Cody called from the bedroom. "I'm not digging through these piles of dirty clothes for anything." He joined his brother in the kitchen and pulled the cabinets open. "2005," he said as he tossed a can of beef stew aside. "I think we're wasting our time here. Let's go."

"Yeah, if we wanted dirty underwear we'd be in heaven. But since we...did you hear that?" the twins went silent and listened. Zack pointed to the window and they stole to the fire escape. Cody snuck a look and couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"There's two climbing the ladder," he whispered.

"Yeah right." Zack looked and saw Cody wasn't pulling his leg. "How is that even possible?"

"I have a theory but I think I'll save if for later."

"Right." They snatched their packs and bats and headed for the door. Zack yanked it open and they set off down the hall just as the first zombie made it to the top of the fire escape. They took the steps in twos and threes and burst out into the foyer of the apartment building. Cody took a few seconds to catch his breath and they returned to the street. After they got their bearings, they set off again, eager to put more of Boston behind them.

They avoided getting trapped again as they wound their way out of the city despite Zack's shoeless foot slapping against the ground with each step. They'd passed through enough of Boston to escape the skyscrapers and found themselves nearing the suburbs.

"I was hoping the streets would have cleared out a little by now," Cody said as they peered around a corner.

"Why? You planning on stealing a car or something?"

"Actually, yes," Cody replied. Zack did a double-take. "It's going to take us forever to get anywhere if we stay on foot.

"You really think you can drive a car?" Zack asked, a grin spreading across his face.

"I don't see why not. Mom could do it."

"Yeah, barely. If we find one, I'm driving."

"We'll see," Cody told him, not conceding the point but not wanting to argue about it now. "Anyway, I think it's time we found a good place to sleep for a few hours." Almost as if on cue, Zack yawned.

"I was thinking the same thing."

The boys kept their eyes open for a suitable building to crash in and eventually found a small coffee shop with a second-story apartment. They barricaded the door and pulled a mattress from the bedroom into the living room. Cody insisted on changing the sheets and Zack, the more he thought about it, couldn't really blame him. They stripped to their underwear and crawled under a light blanket.

"First thing we're doing tomorrow," Zack announced, "is finding me a new pair of shoes. I'm not walking around like this all day. Half my sock is worn off."

"We can do that."

"So what was that theory you were going to tell me earlier?"

"You want to go to sleep that bad?" Cody snickered.

"You can't see it right now since it's dark, but I'm rolling my eyes at you, Cody. Spill it."

"Okay, okay. It goes like this," Cody said, pausing to roll on his shoulder to look at his brother, "I think that the more zombies there are around, the smarter they get. Kind of like a hive-mind."

"You're kidding, right?"

"No, it makes sense with everything we've seen today. Remember when the fences in New York collapsed? That wall was up all day. I'm sure the zombies didn't just appear out of nowhere all of a sudden when the filming started. A few of the early shots from that video showed more and more arriving before they started pushing against the wall and knocking it down. They were just standing around until enough got together to realize they could push it over. If that's not enough, think about the zombies in the elevator."

"You said that was just luck," Zack interrupted.

"I thought it was at the time but it fits, too. If it was pure luck, there would have been zombies on more than just a few floors. All it would have taken is for one of them to have walked into the elevator and hit a button. But the car was full when it showed up on our floor."

"So one couldn't have just bumped into the button and gone up?"

"Nope. The buttons are recessed, remember? You have to push them."

"Jeez," Zack said softly. "So it took a bunch of them to get together to realize they could climb the ladder at that apartment, right?"

"Exactly. If they manage to swarm, they get smart."

Zack groaned. "I wish I would have waited to ask you about your theory until tomorrow."

"And now that I think about it, it happened on the news clip of the two guys we saw. There were tons of zombies in the street and they couldn't get to the men from the front so they figured out that they could go in from behind."

"How sure are you about this, Cody? Seriously."

"About as close to one hundred percent as I can be."

"Thought so. And I think you're right. Do you realize that you figured out more in a few hours than the scientists were able to scratch out in almost a week?"

"I hadn't thought about it like that, no. I just want to keep us alive."

"You keep that up and I'll let you drive the car if we find one," Zack said and Cody could hear the smile on his brother's face.

"I'm holding you to that."

"You can hold me to whatever you want as long as you let me go to sleep now," Zack yawned.

"Goodnight, Zack."

"'Night, Cody."

Cody soon heard his brother's soft snores. He rolled onto his back and put his hands under his head, surprised at how hard it was to fall asleep in an utterly silent city.


	3. Chapter 3

The noise of something crashing against the door woke Cody instantly. The disorientation of sleep kept him from figuring out what was happening for a couple of long seconds. Where were they?Why was he laying on the floor? He saw their make-shift barricade shake when the door was hit again and reality snapped into focus.

"Zack! Wake up now!" he yelled as he shook his brother's shoulder.

"Huh? Whatyouwant?" Zack slurred.

"They found us. The zombies. I don't know how but they did." Zack snapped to and threw the blanket off. He ran to the window and looked out and didn't like what he saw in the early morning light. He could only see about ten feet of the steps from his angle but there had to be at least twenty zombies crowded in that small space.

"There's a bunch of them out there, Cody," he said as the furniture they'd hastily stacked against the door began to slide across the floor. "They're trying to pull the same shit they did with the fence in New York."

Cody went to the other end of the small apartment and looked out the window and saw an empty alley with a Dumpster below their window. "This way, Zack. There's no ladder but we won't have much of a drop." His brother joined him at the window. "Just make sure you land on the closed lid and not the open one."

"No, really? Thanks for that, Captain Obvious." They turned to grab their clothes and gear and stopped cold when a mangled arm reached through the crack in the door and seemed to be waving at them. It would have been almost comical if the gap in the door wasn't growing faster by the second and more and more of the zombie followed its arm into the room.

Cody went for his pants but Zack stopped him and pointed at his shoes. "No time for that now. Put your shoes on. We can get dressed later." Cody nodded and slipped his feet into his shoes and ran back to the window and began struggling to pull it open.

"It's stuck!"

"Break the damn thing then!" Zack threw his brother a bat and the sound of glass tinkling to the floor filled the apartment. "Now let's go!" He grabbed a handful of their clothes and tossed them to his brother, who threw them outside.

The doorway was now wide enough for a zombie to wander through and Zack wasted no time joining Cody at the window. Cody jumped and slid off the lid and Zack was about to follow when Cody's eyes widened and he yelled up for Zack to grab the bag with the address book.

"Shit," Zack mumbled as he turned away from the window. The first zombie was through the door now and closer to Cody's pack than he was. Grunting, Zack lifted the mattress from the floor and ran directly at the zombie, knocking it backwards and out of the way. He gave one last push and let go, pivoting on his toes and snatching the bag up in one fluid motion and went for the window. The bag went first and he heard it land on the concrete. Zack was right behind it, bouncing off the Dumpster's lid and landing beside his brother.

"You didn't get the other bag?"

"Hell no I didn't get the other bag, Cody. I barely got that one," Zack shouted, kicking Cody's pack a few feet across the concrete with his shoed foot.

"Okay, okay. Sorry. You got the one that matters. We can get-" Cody was interrupted as a zombie came to the window and promptly fell out and landed with a resounding _boooom_ in the Dumpster. A second and then a third did the same and Cody couldn't suppress a grin. "Wow."

"No kidding. Let's go before they get lucky and land on the lid," Zack said as one of the zombies managed to stand up only to be crushed by another falling from the window. "I wish I had that on tape," he laughed. Zack scooped up the backpack and Cody got their clothes and the boys high-tailed it down the alley. A few blocks away the stopped in the middle of the street and caught their breath, Cody bent over at the waist and Zack squatting down on his haunches.

"I used to have nightmares like this," Cody said after he got his wind back.

"About running from zombies?"

"No, about being in the middle of the city in just my underwear." Cody told him and Zack snickered.

"I'd have nightmares, too, if I still wore Hanes."

"Whatever," Cody said as he took his shoes off. Zack did the same and the boys redressed as much as they were able with half their clothes still in the apartment. Zack was missing his shirt in addition to his shoe and Cody was sockless and without his usual undershirt.

"Number one on the list of things we're doing today," Zack said as they started walking again, "is get new clothes."

"Let's get out of the city before we go shopping, Zack.

The boys put block after block behind them, having to dodge zombies every few streets, until they came to an on-ramp for the I-90 expressway.

"What do you think, Zack? It should be a lot faster than winding our way through the streets."

"Yeah, I think you're right."

They walked up the ramp and merged into the dead traffic. Cody was right; it was faster. There weren't anywhere near as many overturned vehicles and other debris and there were significantly fewer zombies. As far as they could tell, the only downside to being on the freeway was the lack of shade. It was barely past mid-morning but Cody's shirt was already stuck to his back. Zack wiped an arm across his brow and flung the sweat to the pavement.

"Pass me a water bottle, Cody," Zack asked about three miles into their walk. Cody dug one out and handed it over.

"Go easy on it. We only have one more after that until we find more."

"I bet we can find more up here," Zack said, heading for the nearest car. He stepped away just as quickly when he saw that nearly every square inch of the interior was covered in blood and gore. He gently steered Cody away when his brother came over to help him look. "Maybe not in this one. We'll keep looking."

"Speaking of looking, look over there." Cody pointed to the horizon and Zack saw a long line of dark clouds heading their way.

"We're going to get soaked, aren't we? That's awesome," Zack said sarcastically. They kept plodding along, hoping they'd reach the next off-ramp before the storm broke over them.

"We could take cover in one of these cars, Zack," Cody said when they could see the rain a few hundred yards away.

"No way. Cars might be safe in a thunderstorm but I don't want to be in one that's surrounded by zombies. We'd never get out." _Or they'd find their way in, _he added to himself and shuddered.

"Good point." The water fell on them seconds later, washing the sweat and dirt away as it soaked them to the bone. It fell so hard that they could barely see the green reflective sign marking the off-ramp. They picked up their pace and hurried to the exit. The boys started around a jack-knifed semi trailer and didn't hear the sounds of shuffling feet and moans on the other side over the pounding rain.

Zack cleared the trailer first and was face-to-face with a half dozen zombies. He watched as the nearest one reached out for him in what felt like extreme slow motion. Zack saw the dirt and dried blood under the thing's ragged fingernails as they neared his face.

"Zack, why'd you stop?" Cody asked as he ran into his brother's back. He looked up and saw the scene and gave Zack a shove to the side. "No!" Cody yelled so hard his voice cracked.

Truth be told, Cody Martin had never been in a real fight in his entire life. He'd been in the occasional scrape with his brother and had a scuffle or two in school over the years, but he'd never thrown a punch. Until now. The bat was in his left hand and it might as well have been on the moon for all the good it would do him there, so he balled his fist and threw a punch and was a bit surprised when he connected with the side of the zombie's head. He spun the thing around and out of the way long enough to clear the trailer and get some fighting room.

Cody pushed the hair back out of his eyes and switched the bat to his other hand. He spared a quick glance back for Zack and saw that he was seconds away from joining the fight. Cody lashed out with the bat and caught the closest zombie in the shoulder, gritting his teeth as he heard something break with a sickening crack. The zombie staggered away under the blow and fell to the ground. He hit the next one dead in the chest and watch as it awkwardly pinwheeled its arms before falling backwards.

"You've gotta hit them in the head, Cody!" Zack yelled as he swung and smashed the top of a zombie's skull in. "They'll just keep getting up if you don't."

"Not that easy with a bat, Zack," Cody said over the rain.

"We just need better stuff. Now come on, we can get past the rest of them."

Cody spared a glance back at the two he'd knocked down. His brother was right. One was nearly to its feet already while the other was trying to manage getting up with only one arm. He felt Zack's hand on his shoulder and moved on when he got a little push. They made their way down the rest of the ramp, taking care not to walk too close to anything that could hide a zombie-filled ambush.

Once they reached the bottom it was clear they'd bypassed the rest of downtown Boston and were now in the outskirts of the suburbs. They paralleled the freeway for a few blocks as they walked through the remains of a massive fire. Many of the buildings were still throwing heat off as they passed and Cody surmised that this was probably the fire he saw the previous night. Wet ash had piled up like mud on parts of the sidewalk.

Five blocks that felt like twenty later, they stepped out of the fire zone and were walking past an industrial park when Zack perked up. "Do you see what's up there, Cody? Houses."

Cody couldn't see much but the ground ahead of him through the downpour so he didn't answer immediately. A few dozen steps further he came to believe Zack was right. "I see them." The boys trudged on and felt their steps get a little lighter when they saw the first driveway leading from the road.

"The blue one," Cody told his brother, pointing a few houses past the first.

"Why? It's further away."

"It's bigger than the others. Probably more bedrooms. Better chance of finding stuff we can use and clothes we can wear. Besides, it's not like we can get any wetter."

"True." Zack led the way to the front door and tried the knob. "Locked," he said.

"Let's try the back before we go breaking windows."

"Sounds good." Zack was ready to create his own way into the house and was surprised to find the door open when he pulled on it. He looked back at Cody and shrugged before putting a finger to his lips as he stepped inside. They stood silently for a ten count in a laundry room before deciding they were in the clear. Cody locked the door behind them.

Zack toed his shoe off and and worked his soaked jeans down his legs. He looked around and saw a stack of towels neatly folded on a shelf. He grabbed one and looked at his brother. "If you don't want to be embarrassed, I think you should turn around for a few seconds." He tugged at the waistband of his boxers when Cody didn't understand. Cody blushed and turned his back and Zack stripped the rest of the way and wrapped the towel around his waist. "Done." He returned the favor for Cody and they left the laundry room.

They entered the kitchen and checked the cabinets as they passed, finding them far from fully stocked but equally far from bare. They continued their exploration and found the living room and its perfectly useless giant flat screen as well as a hallway and a flight of stairs.

"Yeah, there were kids here, Cody. Check out the 360," Zack said, pointing to the xbox console. Cody nodded in agreement.

"I'll take the hallway if you want the upstairs," Cody told him after Zack was finished rooting through the stack of games.

"That's fine." He stood back up and headed for the stairs.

Cody shivered as he walked down the hallway and he couldn't convince himself it was just from the cold rain. He felt weird walking through a total stranger's house. He poked his head in a door and saw a master bedroom. He kept going and found an office and a library. He walked past the shelves of books and ran his fingers on the bindings, nodding his approval at the titles.

Meanwhile, Zack had climbed the stairs and found the kids' bedrooms. He looked around and guessed one had belonged to a boy somewhere around six or seven, another boy close to their age, and a third...some sort of girl. All the pink in the third room made him want to gag so he closed the door back. He returned to the middle room and set about trying to find something to wear other than a towel. He went back downstairs a few minutes later in shorts and a t-shirt and two shoes.

"Try the room in the middle, Cody," he told his brother as he came from the back of the house. The clothes are a little small on me but they should fit you fine. These shoes though, wow, they're tight but they'll work for today."

"Thanks." Cody told him what he'd found before starting up the steps.

"Hey, you didn't happen to see a gun while you were back there, did you?"

"Not out in the open but I didn't dig in any drawers or closets. I figure we have a few hours to kill until this storm blows over."

Cody went up the stairs and entered the center room. He looked around, taking in the room. Basketball and band posters covered most of the walls and the desk by the window was covered in basketball trophies and pictures. Not able to stop himself, Cody picked up a picture of a dozen smiling, sweaty boys standing in front of a basketball goal, each holding an index fingers in the air.

After comparing that picture to a few others on the desk, Cody determined who's room he was in. He looked around again and felt sadness for a boy he'd never met as he realized the kid would never get a chance to see...whoever those men on the posters were...play again or listen to a song by any of his favorite bands. He wondered what happened to the boy and the rest of his family. Did they escape to somewhere safe? Were they out in the middle of it all when the outbreak occurred? Cody let out a hitching breath as he studied the snapshot. He didn't know how long he stood there staring at it, only that it was long enough for Zack to come looking for him.

"Hey, you okay, Cody?" he called softly from the doorway.

"Oh. I'm...good. I'm fine. Just got distracted for a bit."

Zack knew his brother well enough to know better but he didn't show it. He was on the verge of cracking and Zack wished he'd not come looking for him. It needed to happen and it was just a matter of time before it did. He could only hope it wouldn't happen at a bad time. "I just thought I'd come up here and tell you that I, um," Zack paused, pretending to look at the wall for a second while he made up an excuse, "oh, Nine Inch Nails. Nice taste. Anyway, I found a basement. I figure we'll scrounge up a meal and then check it out."

"Yeah, that sounds like a plan."

"You find some clothes and I'll raid the cabinets. See you in a few." Zack said as he turned and left. Cody put the picture down and went to the dresser to find something to wear.

Zack had stacked a bunch of cans on one of the counters and was busy opening them when Cody came down. "You know, I never knew I'd miss something as stupid as an electric can opener."

"Tell me about it. What'd you find?" After days of rationing the food they had in their hotel suite, the lunch of cold ravioli, soup, and crackers and a dessert of surprisingly not stale cookies filled them. Zack leaned back in his chair and patted his belly.

"Ready to check the basement?" Zack asked as he burped.

"Gross. And maybe one of us should stay up here and keep watch. Just in case. The worst thing I can think of is getting trapped in the basement."

"I can think of worse things but you're right. You want to stay up here?" Zack had a pretty good idea that Cody did. For whatever reason, this house was weirding him out.

"That's good with me," his brother answered. "Just don't take too long." He dug their sole flashlight from the pack and handed it to Zack.

"Be back in a few," Zack told him as he headed for the steps. "Don't forget to call out if there's a problem." Zack didn't wait for Cody's reply and turned the flashlight on and descended into darkness. He took the stairs carefully, flashing the light around everywhere at once. Every shadow was a zombie and each creak was a moan. By the time he reached the bottom, the hairs on the back of his neck were standing on end.

"Okay, Zack. Calm down. There's no one down here." A voice in his head asked how he knew that fact. "Because I'd smell 'em, that's why," he told the voice and it quieted down. He scanned the room and saw an entire corner filled with exercise equipment that had become clothes racks. A couch filled one side of the long wall and another big television filled the other side. Slightly envious, Zack passed them by and headed for the door at the end of the room.

"Holy crap," he mumbled as he took a long look at the stacks of boxes. "Mom would be in heaven right now." A dozen boxes labeled as _XMAS _stood next to another ten or so with _Jeremy's Winter Clothes _or, and this made him laugh, _Mom's Old Knitting Shit. _"Betcha Mom didn't write that," he said to himself and grinned. He spent another few minutes looking at a fantastic amount of crap before giving up. Zack turned around and his feet got tangled in an old rug and he slipped. His arm flailed out and he managed to pull some of _Jeremy's Winter Clothes _down on himself. He yelled out as a box hit him in the forehead.

"You okay?" Cody called from the top of the steps, his voice shaky.

"Yeah, I'm good. Just managed to knock a bunch of boxes over. Cody told him to hurry it up if there wasn't anything worthwhile down there and Zack said he would. He pushed the boxes off his body and stood up. He happened to shine the light down on a box and saw a glossy glimmer from an open corner. "Hello, what have we here?" he said as he opened the box the rest of the way. And laughed. Underneath a messily folded sweater was the largest stash of porn Zack had ever seen. "I like this Jeremy kid," he said under his breath as he folded the box's flaps closed, making a note to come back down here before they left as he traipsed back up the steps.

"Find anything interesting down there?" Cody asked him when he got back to the kitchen.

"You could say that," Zack laughed. Cody gave him a quizzical look and he elaborated. "A couple of light raincoats we can take with us. I found another backpack, too."

"And you didn't bring them up here why?"

"Because it's still raining out there, that's why. Unless you're in a hurry to get soaked again." Cody admitted that his brother had a point.

The boys spent the next hour going through the house room by room. They put together a decent amount of food from the various cabinets and the pantry, a set of nice binoculars, a couple changes of clothes, and a large but lightweight duffel bag to carry it all in, but no weapons.

"How is it possible that no one in this city owns a gun?" Zack asked after they'd taken the parents' room apart.

"We've only been in the suites at the hotel, two apartments, and this house. That's hardly the whole city, Zack."

"Well, yeah, but we haven't seen a single one in the street or in a car, either. The survivors always find a gun by now in the movies. And don't tell me this isn't a movie. I know." Cody smirked at his brother.

"We'll find some. There's got to be a gun shop somewhere."

"If we find a gun shop, we're going to be extra careful, Cody. Super careful."

"Why? More movie knowledge?"

"Actually, yes. Will you just trust me on this until we find one? If we find one?"

"If you want me to, Zack. Yeah, I'll trust you."

"Good."

They messed around and killed another hour while the rain pounded itself out. Cody flipped through books in the library while Zack made a second trip downstairs to grab the raincoats and his secret cargo, managing to find a heavy-duty flashlight in the process. The sun finally broke through the grey clouds and within minutes they could see steam starting to roll up from the ground.

"Why couldn't the zombies happen back in like March?" Zack groused as they prepared to leave. "It would be a bunch cooler out there."

"There might be two feet of snow on the ground and that would be even worse," Cody answered as he pulled a red hat he'd liberated from upstairs on his head.

"Never knew you were a Pistons fan, Cody," Zack said as he shouldered his new pack.

"I didn't know I was either. Are they a baseball team?" he looked at Zack and saw him shaking his head. "No? Football? Hockey? Basketball?"

"There you go. Fourth try's the charm."

"Are they any good?" he asked as they walked out the back door, instantly regretting it as Zack started talking about sports. He did his best to tune Zack out and concentrate on their surroundings as they walked. After all these years it was a skill he still had not developed well enough. Cody suffered seven blocks of Zack's nonstop monologue before he stopped it.

"...and they'd foul the shit out of Michael Jordan every chance they had back then. He'd get the ball and-"

"Zack, hush. Look." Cody pointed down the road where a shape was coming out of the steam and heat haze.

"Is it a zombie?"

"I don't know."

"Well how about you use those fancy binoculars that you have hanging around your neck and take a look, Cody?"

"Oh yeah." Cody pulled them to his eyes and turned the center knob to focus. "No, not a zombie. Looks like a grandma pushing a cart."

"A normal person? Finally!" Zack exclaimed with a small fist pump. "It's nice to know that we're not the last people on the planet after all."

As they closed the distance with the other figure, Zack saw Cody was right. It was an older lady, not yet elderly but a far cry from her thirties, pushing a shopping cart filled with supplies. A ridiculously large sun hat sat atop her head and she was wearing a dress that looked like an old curtain. They waited until they were about twenty feet away before calling to her.

"Hello, ma'am, are you okay?"

"Get back!" She shouted at them and stopped her cart. "Get away!"

"Ma'am?" Cody questioned. "Is everything okay?"

"I can see the plague on you. I can smell the infection on your breath. Get away from me!"

Cody and Zack exchanged glances before Cody tried again. "We're not infected, ma'am, I promise. We haven't been bitten." They walked a little closer, showing her their arms and legs and even pulling up their shirts. "See?"

"Lies!" the grandmother shouted as she began to dig in her purse. "Boys your age are always full of lies. I can see the rot on your faces, boys, but you'll not be biting me. Oh no you won't." Both boys froze as she finally managed to pull a large handgun from the bag and aimed it at them with her liver-spotted hands.

"Run, Cody!" Zack yelled as he pushed his brother toward the rows of houses. "Go!" A loud boom broke the quiet of the neighborhood and Zack felt the bullet rush inches past his face and heard glass shatter somewhere near. They'd almost reached the side of the house when she fired again but thankfully wasn't as close with her second shot. The boys ran across backyards and down side streets until they'd put almost a mile between them and her. They finally stopped on the back steps of another house, completely out of breath, and sat down on a porch swing.

"What the hell was that, Cody? She shot at us. _Shot _at us." Zack was furious.

"I think she was crazy, Zack. All this might have pushed her over the edge."

"I don't care why she did it. All that matters is that she did. Damn it, I can't believe she shot at us. We aren't even infected!"

"I know, Zack, I know," Cody told him, trying to calm his brother down.

"See, this is why we need guns, Cody. So shit like this can't happen."

"Wait. You mean that after all this, after all the death and destruction we've seen, you mean to tell me that you'd have shot her?" Cody looked at Zack in disbelief. Zack looked back at him like he was a moron.

"Cody, I don't know if you've been paying attention for the last week or not but the world we knew is gone. Absolutely gone. There's no police anymore. There's no Army anymore. No Marines, no Air Force, maybe a Navy but they aren't here so they don't matter. There's no one left to protect us from the zombies or the crazy people but us. So to answer your question, hell yes I would have shot her. Right in the face. Right between the fucking eyes. But to do that, I need a gun."

Cody was stone silent for a few minutes. "You're right," was all he said when he finally spoke.

"Look," Zack said to him, "I wasn't trying to be mean but I think you needed a little dose of reality check. It's ugly out here now and we've got to look out for each other. You're all I have left now, Cody, and I'm not about to let some crazy bitch take you away from me, okay? I'll bury whoever's left in this entire city before I let that happen." He wrapped an arm around Cody and pulled him close. "Okay?"

Cody nodded into his chest and finally let everything go. He'd stayed strong for Zack when they were in the hotel room, stayed emotionally stable during their week of hiding in the suite. He'd seen Zack through his little moments along the way after they left the Tipton. He'd been hanging on by a thread by the time they'd reached the house earlier, the vileness of his city and all that had happened in it wearing on him like a great weight. If Zack hadn't come upon him when he had, Cody would have had his breakdown in the mysterious boy's bedroom.

But he was having it now. Zack held him just like Cody had held him more times than he wanted to remember over the past week. He placed a hand on his brother's back and gently rubbed and whispered quiet encouragements while Cody cried himself out. Cody leaned further into him and Zack began to slowly rock the swing.


	4. Chapter 4

Carey was sitting on the back bumper of a desert shaded Humvee and picking at her dinner with two others when the first call came out. She'd barely put the container down and rose to her feet when the shooting started. She looked at her fellow survivors and was sure her face mirrored the same horror she saw in theirs. _This can't be happening. Not again._

Explosions shook the ground and a grisly rain of body parts fell on everyone inside the compound. Carey wiped a line of gore from her arm as a minigun atop a neighboring Humvee began whirring away and she had to move before she was buried under its torrent of red-hot spent shell casings. Orders were being yelled back and forth and she wondered how anyone could hear anything in all the noise and chaos.

The fence fell and all hell broke loose. From somewhere in the vast concrete expanse of the safe zone, she heard the sound of helicopter engines spooling up. A second breach caught her eye and she watched as hundreds or even thousands of the walking dead poured through a new hole in their supposedly impregnable wall. Panic began to set in among the survivors and they started running in every possible direction. Refusing to resign herself to a grim end like the rest of the cattle in the pen, she ran to where the supply trucks were parked, determined to find some sort of weapon and go down fighting.

She had barely reached the small depot when the helicopters screamed low overhead. Carey threw herself to the ground and covered her ears, hardly able to look at them through the downdraft and the heat their engines were putting out. _If the zombies don't kill me, those things will, _Carey thought as she rolled under the truck. She watched the long barrel under the machines' noses twitch slightly back and forth before they spat long lances of fire. Rockets leapt from the rails under the stubby wings. Carey found herself screaming along with the thundering.

It was all for naught. Even one of the most lethal weapons money could buy couldn't stop a horde of thousands of zombies. All too soon the cannons and rocket pods ran empty and the helicopters were just multimillion dollar birds flitting above the zone. Carey pulled herself to her feet and looked in the back of the truck and, for the first time since she stepped foot in the Big Apple, had something go her way. She had reached in and was pulling a matte black shotgun from a pile of weapons when a voice from behind made her jump and nearly drop the gun.

"Can you shoot that?" Carey whirled around and saw a small group of men in uniform standing behind her, a man who appeared to be somewhere near her age who wore sergeant's rank and another six who looked like they might have to shave twice a week.

"I grew up on a farm," she said as she fed shells into the shotgun.

"Good enough for me," he told her. "If you want to live I suggest you hop in the back. We're getting the hell out of here." He turned to one of the young soldiers. "Riley, start this mother up." He turned back to the rest of his group. "Marines, we are leaving." Carey waved away their offered help and climbed up and inside the back of the truck. She carefully made her way over the randomly piled items of war and took a seat near the back of the cab.

"What about the rest of the people out there, Sergeant?" she asked once the truck had come to life and everyone was was getting situated as best as they could among the boxes of supplies.

"I don't think you'd like the answer to that question, ma'am."

"Nothing you say is going to offend my delicate sensibilities, Sergeant," Carey told him. He took a second to think before he answered.

"Ma'am, I hate to sound heartless, but they're already dead. They just don't know it yet." Carey leaned forward and looked out the back of the truck and knew that the young Marine was right. A half dozen other Marines were doing their best to wave the survivors to a group of waiting trucks and Carey could see barely twenty had been rounded up. She shook her head slowly and the truck lurched forward.

"It's not heartless. It's terrible, but it's true." The truck picked up speed and the sergeant yelled for everyone to hang on. The truck staggered as it plowed through a wall of walking corpses. Carey bounced on her make-shift seat as bodies fell under the wheel. They'd lost quite a bit of speed when they met the zombies and they were soon surrounded.

"Keep them off the truck!" the driver yelled back through the small window as he gunned the engine.

"You heard the man," the sergeant said as he rose shakily to his feet. Carey and the other soldiers did the same and brought their weapons to bear. The sound of hundreds of shotgun blasts and screaming rifle rounds ripping through their attackers nearly deafened her but she fought on. Finally, they made it through the thickest part of the mob and began to pick up speed again, their need to clear space around the truck diminishing with every second.

"Nice shooting, ma'am," the sergeant said to her when they returned to their seats. He quickly began feeding shells into his weapon.

"Thanks, and I'm Carey. Carey Martin."

"Clinton Vincent," he said, offering his burly hand. Carey was in the process of shaking it when a loud _shit! _came from the cab and was nearly thrown on her face when the truck lurched and seemed to drop a hundred feet in a fraction of a second. "What the hell was that, Riley?" Sergeant Vincent yelled through the window into the cab.

"Mother of all pot holes, Sarge. Might have even been a blast crater. Whatever it was, I hit it when I came around a corner."

"You hit another one like that and you'll break the fucking truck. You won't ever get to come again," he told the driver. "Sorry, Ms. Martin." His face blushed and the other young men snickered.

"I have twin boys. I've heard much worse." Despite everything she'd seen, Carey still refused to refer to her sons in the past tense. They'd barely gone another block when something under the truck started grinding.

"Uh, Sarge?"

"I hear it, Riley. How bad is it?"

"We're probably going to have to call AAA and get a tow."

"Well that's good news. I was afraid we'd have to ride out of here in style and miss out on all the fun." Carey could see the fear in his eyes that he was desperately trying to cover up with his bravado. "Everybody gear up. As much as you can carry. We're going to need it."

The grinding worsened and one of the men handed her a tactical vest. "Lots of pockets in this thing, Ms. Martin. Ballistic plating in it, too." He tapped the front and back pads with his knuckles and Carey heard a dull _thonk_. "But I don't think I need to tell you that if you're getting shot at we have a whole new set of problems."

"I'll say," Carey said and let him help slide it over her head before joining the men in stuffing every pocket and pouch with shotgun shells. She found a small satchel among the random equipment and filled that, too. She slung the shotgun over her shoulder and got a round of catcalls. "If any of you call me Rambo I'll shoot you where you stand," she joked.

"What about Ram_babe_?" one of them asked and they all laughed.

"That will work," Carey smiled as Sergeant Vincent handed her a pistol and told her to tuck it away in one of her pockets.

"This little thing won't do much against the zombies but if it gets really bad..." he trailed off, not wanting or needing to finish the thought.

"I understand. Thanks."

"I hate to break up the party back there," Riley called out from the cab, "but something's burning under the hood. I think this girl's done." Almost as if he planned it, a gout of smoke erupted from the side of the truck to punctuate his statement.

"Well the good news is that I never liked this truck all that much in the first place. Not very fond of the olive drab paint."

"What's the bad news, Sarge?"

"There's fucking zombies everywhere, son. That's the bad news. Let's do this."

The truck ground to a halt a block later and the grey smoke turned black and flames shot through the hood. Riley jumped from the cab and was tossed his gear and quickly donned it all while the rest of the crew dismounted. Vincent looked around and pointed and they took off, walking as quietly as eight people carrying hundreds of pounds of equipment and ammunition could. They halted at a corner and hunkered down while Vincent pulled a map from one of his many pockets.

"Thanks to Riley's crack driving, we're here," he said as he jabbed the map. "Our fall-back point was supposed to be here." He pointed to a place halfway across the map. "You'll notice that we're nowhere near it." A quiet chorus of thanks for Riley followed.

"We might as well head for it anyway, Sarge. Maybe we can find another truck and Riley can wreck that one, too."

"Fuck you, Sanchez."

"Save it for the honeymoon, ladies," He said to the two arguing Marines. "That's my plan. As of yesterday morning we still held a toehold down by the river. We'll head there and maybe get a ride off this shithole island." The matter was settled and they were moving again, advancing in groups of four down the deserted streets, speaking in only hushed whispers as they wound their way through the remains of New York. They avoided as many groups of zombies as they could but Carey couldn't help but notice how they fought with zeal against the groups they couldn't. It had just passed four a.m. when Sergeant Vincent called a halt.

"Everybody grab a quick bite," he said as he pulled his map back out. Carey saw a scowl cross his face before he could hide it.

"What is it?"

He looked up and studied her. "We were supposed to have passed a strong point a block back."

"Maybe they got overrun."

"I didn't see a single shell casing on the ground, Ms. Martin. Didn't see any signs of struggle, either. Recent struggle, anyway. Makes me wonder." He said no more, letting the others draw the same conclusion he had. "Let's go." Carey took a quick sip from her canteen and screwed the lid back on and fell in with the rest of them. They had just passed Central Park when everything fell apart. In one second, things were going smoothly and in the next, zombies were seemingly coming out of the woodwork.

The eight survivors waged a savage battle for their lives as they tried to escape down side streets and alleys. Each turn brought them to another mass of zombies, each somehow larger than the last.

"Yeah, the zombies are stupid, they said. The zombies are slow, they said. The zombies can't-"

"Stow it," Vincent ordered as he snapped another clip into his rifle. "We can talk shit about the intel guys later." They fought their way out of the frying pan and directly into the fire.

Someone, Carey wasn't sure who, announced that this was all bullshit and that they were telling their mother. Another indistinct voice laughed.

It had been twenty years since Carey had held a gun in her hands but she quickly realized that it was much like riding a bike; you learn once and it will come back to you. She'd been a crack shot back on the farm, shooting aluminum cans and scavenged bottles off fence posts but this was entirely different since bottles didn't try to kill you.

Her hands seemed to be working on autopilot. Carey barely noticed them pulling shells from her many pockets and slamming them into the receiver. Shoot one, load one, shoot two, load two. She heard someone screaming during the battle and was surprised to discover it was her. One zombie had somehow managed to make it through the wall of lead and shot they were putting in the air and got close enough to swipe at her face. She took a step back and put the muzzle in its mouth and pulled the trigger, blowing what looked like oatmeal all over a useless street lamp.

If her hands were on autopilot, Carey's brain was a million miles away. She saw every last one of the zombies as roadblocks between her and her boys back in Boston. Roadblocks that had to be removed. Her mind targeted one of the deadheads and was already marking the next three before the gun had been brought to bear on the first. She was playing the world's deadliest game of chess, trying to stay as many moves ahead of her opponent as possible.

Finally, after ten minutes of vicious hand-to-hand and point-blank fighting, the battle began to wind down. They'd fought their way out of the middle of the horde and a mostly empty street lay before them. The group made a break for it and stepped into hell when they rounded a corner.

"Ah fuck," someone muttered as they saw another mass of zombies. "This is getting ridiculous. Someone needs to remind them that we're the good guys here."

Carey felt her spirits drop and her head followed. She sighed deeply as snapshots of her boys ran through her head. Zack jumping off a swing set and sailing a good twenty feet through the air before coming back to earth in the controlled crash that only little boys are capable of. _He brushed his knees off and laughed, _she thought to herself. _Would have done it again, too, if I'd let him._ Cody was standing on the edge of a diving board, bouncing slightly as he tried to work up the courage to jump into the water. His arms were tightly wrapped across his little chest, she saw, and he was shaking his head no so hard he almost fell off the board. _He finally jumped and ended up loving it. _They were both doing their utmost to stay up late on Christmas Eve and wait for Santa. She allowed herself a smile as she remembered them.

Carey was just about to admit to herself that she wasn't going to see them again when she saw the manhole cover at her feet. She stared at it, almost daring it to be a mirage. It wasn't. Why hadn't it occurred to her sooner? "The sewers! We've got to go into the sewers!" Heads turned in her direction, only four, she noticed and winced, and she pointed down. "It's our way out."

She moved aside and let one of the men yank the cover off while the others _where was Sergeant Vincent? _laid down covering fire. The clanking of the steel had yet to stop echoing off the buildings' brick walls before they were climbing down a rusty ladder into the filth and muck of the undercity. Carey looked up as the last man down slid the cover back into place and blocked out the moonlight, dropping them all into darkness. Flashlights quickly popped into life and they surveyed their new surroundings.

"Where's Sarge? Where's Mitchell and Smith?" one of the men asked, his voice betraying how young he really was. Carey had tattoos older than him.

"We lost Mitchell right when it happened," Riley answered. "I never saw the others go down, though."

"We've got to go back after them," the terrified voice said. "They might still be alive."

"You first, hero" the voice she recognized as Sanchez told him.

"No one's going back up there," Carey told them all. "If they're up there, they're dead."

"She's right. They paid with their lives so we could get away. We aren't ruining that by trying to play Superman," the young driver announced. Now everyone rest up, reload, and let's see how we're doing." The small band relaxed and took stock of their remaining supplies and found them dangerously depleted. They ate a silent meal in the near darkness, no one tasting the food they ate.

Carey was nearly finished with her MRE when a light began jumping across her body. She looked up and gave Riley a questioning look as it danced over her legs. "Just checking." She watched as the light played over Sanchez next and stopped when it reached his shoulder. "You okay, Sanchez?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

"What happened to your arm?" Everyone watched as Sanchez turned his arm and looked at his shredded triceps.

"No idea, man," he said, but his voice shook. "Maybe one of you guys shot me."

"Let's see it." Riley's voice took on a hard edge and his finger wrapped around the trigger of his rifle. "Now." The man's head drooped as he started taking off his shirt and Carey was almost sure he was crying when he turned his naked shoulder to the group. "That's a bite."

"I'm fine, Riley, really."

"You are far from fine, Sanchez. Far, far from it."

"You can't do it, Riley! You can't. We've been together since fucking boot camp, man!" he cried.

"You know I have to. You knew it when we signed up for this." Carey's hand went to her mouth to cover a gasp when she realized what they were talking about.

"C'mon, guys. Please. Don't do this." The others quickly but silently snapped to action.

"We don't want to but we have to. If we don't, you'll end up coming after us."

"But I'm not a zombie!"

"Not yet, Sanchez, but you will be. You know there isn't a cure." Riley looked him straight in the eyes. "Don't make us do it the hard way. Please."

"Okay," he said after an age. "But promise me that if you guys make it back home because, seriously, fuck this city and anyone left in it, promise me that you'll find my family and watch out for them."

"We will, Sanchez. I swear."

"Good." he sighed the deepest sigh Carey had ever heard. "Let's get this over with."

Carey watched in muted horror as the young man she'd met just hours earlier began stripping himself of any useful gear and piling it along the wall. When he was done, he simply nodded and started walking down the tunnel. Riley looked at the remaining Marines with a silent question.

"Fuck, man...You're the ranking, Riley, it's on you. I couldn't do it even if I wanted to."

"I know," Riley said sadly. He turned and followed Sanchez. No one made a sound as he left. Eventually the flashlight stopped moving and they all waited for the gunshot they knew was coming. It was a long enough wait that Carey was beginning to think that maybe Riley was going to let him go instead of killing him. Then the gun went off and the shot reverberated off the narrow sewer walls.

"Oh my God," Carey stammered as she leaned against the stonework, chin on chest and a hand over her eyes.

"I know, ma'am. It's terrible," a soft voice said in an attempt to comfort her. Not another sound was heard until Riley's footsteps signaled his return.

He looked the three of them over before sitting against the wall and didn't speak or move for almost ten minutes. "Someone tell me that I just did the right thing," he said at last. "Because right now I think I'm a monster."

"You're not a monster," Carey told him when it appeared the other two Marines weren't going to wade into the conversation. "You did what had to be done."

"Did I?" Riley didn't sound convinced.

"Yes you did. If you hadn't, he would have eventually turned and come after you or me or your friends there." She nodded her head in the general direction of the two silent soldiers. "Or if you'd have let him go, he might have found another survivor and bitten him instead."

"I know you're right, Ms. Martin, but it's sitting so wrong with me. I sure could use about a hundred beers right about now." When no one offered up even a single beer, he pulled his canteen and took a long, slow drink.

"So what's the plan?" a young, doe-eyed man who Carey believed to be named Cook asked when Riley's drink was done.

"Originally, the plan was for us to hold the former safe zone _and_ somehow manage to reclaim LaGuardia so the rest of our troops from Europe and the Mid-East and wherever else around the world could return home and retake our country. I think you can see how much of a donkeyfuck that plan turned out to be. So, I say we go home. Like Sanchez said, the hell with this city. There isn't anything left here worth saving," Riley said after giving it a moment's consideration. He looked at what was left of what were now his men to see if there were any objections and saw nothing but two faces that were just as eager to get out of New York as he was. "Ms. Martin, I don't know what you plan on doing but you are more than welcome to come with us."

"I can't. I have kids back in Boston."

"Ms. Martin, the chances..."

"I know. But I couldn't live with myself if I didn't check. I hope that you can experience that for yourself one day," she told him. "I have to go to Boston."

Riley frowned and began digging through Sanchez's gear. "I understand but I don't like it." He began rooting through what remained of Sanchez's gear. "It's dangerous to go alone. Take this," he said.

"If you're going to give me a fierce little kitten..." Carey said, and was surprised to hear a few short laughs.

"No, no kitten. No magic sword, either," he said, surprising her by getting the joke. "I'm afraid you'll have to settle for the rest of the shotgun shells and a grenade." He handed her a small pouch. Carey tried to resist, telling them that they'd need it more than she would but Riley wouldn't hear it. "Take them. The three of us are better with rifles anyway."

"Thanks," she told the three of them and slung it over her shoulder before surprising them all by hugging them. "Thanks for getting me this far."

"All in a day's work, Ms. Martin," Cook told her and the others nodded..

"It's late and I think we could all use a little rest before we part ways," Riley said with a stifled yawn. "Besides, I don't know about you all but I'm not very impressed by this city's night life." The exhaustion of the day had caught up with them all and they quickly agreed. The small group bedded down and tried to catch a few hours of shut-eye before starting the next parts of their journeys.

Carey had a rather restless sleep. She kept waking up from imaginary gunshots or another random sliver of nightmare. Eventually, she decided that enough was enough and stayed awake. She wrapped her arms around her legs and waited for the first rays of light to slip through the holes in the steel lid, doing her best to not think about everything that had happened in the last few hours.

After a quick breakfast and a slightly teary goodbye filled with calls for luck and admonitions of caution, Carey went her way and the three Marines went theirs. She moved quickly but carefully up the island, running into only a fraction of the zombies they'd encountered less than six hours before. She chose to avoid them and save her small supply of ammunition. She knew she could find more but wasn't sure when. Her eyes were constantly scanning the skyline for the first peek of her way out of this hellhole, and she felt more than a little relief when she got her first glimpse of the George Washington Bridge. Carey picked up her pace to almost a jog and was working her way up an on-ramp within the hour.

The sun had risen high enough in the sky by the time she made it to the bridge's deck to burn off most of the morning fog and what she saw stunned her. From her vantage point over the middle of the Hudson River, it looked like all of New Jersey was on fire. Hadn't the sergeant said something about a fort being across the river? She didn't remember. "What the hell?" she said aloud and sat on the hood of an abandoned car. All she could do was shake her head. "Worry about it when you get there, Carey old girl," she told herself as she put the shotgun back on her shoulder and stared walking again.

_This chapter took me absolutely forever to get done. Sorry about that. You all didn't think I'd just kill Carey off like that, did you? She's my favorite non-twin character on the show. Anyway, this chapter gave me such fits that I started working on the next chapter with Z&C in it for a little while before it worked out. So that one will probably be up after the weekend. _


	5. Chapter 5

The twins were already walking down the street when the sun peeked its head over the horizon, putting the crazy lady and her neighborhood further behind them with each step. Neither boy had slept well the previous night and they were itching to move on. Cody judged them a few hours' walk from being officially out of Boston and all its suburbs and that suited them both just fine. The city they'd spent the last few years in felt cold to them now, no longer a home at all.

They'd been walking for about an hour, Zack doing his best to fill the morning air with something other than the sound of their own footsteps since Cody didn't seem willing to participate in conversation, when he called a sudden halt to their march.

"Okay, that's it. Spill it, Cody. What's up? You've said maybe ten words since we left the house. Did I do something to piss you off?"

"No, you haven't done anything. I've been thinking, that's all."

"Anything you want to share with me or is it special super secret Cody-only stuff?"

"Some of it yes, some of it no."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that I'll tell you part of it but not all of it, Zack." Cody could tell his brother was pissed but he'd have to deal with it. He wasn't ready to share everything yet.

"Whatever. What's the part that I get the honor of hearing?"

"Don't be like that, Zack. I'll tell you the rest of it when I figure it out. I promise." He looked at his brother, his eyes imploring Zack to not make a big deal over it.

"Okay, I guess that will work." Zack mercifully let it drop for the time being. "Why don't we head to that gas station and you can tell me what's keeping you so quiet while we eat a quick lunch." He pointed to the Amoco about a half mile up the road. Cody nodded his agreement and they got back on their way.

Once inside the small convenience store, Zack began to raid the uncool coolers for anything sweet and caffeinated while Cody looked for anything besides Slim Jims and candy bars to eat. Zack came out ahead and tossed his brother a can of Monster. "Be nicer if they were cold but I figure we better enjoy them while they're still here, right? I don't think they'll be making them again for a while."

"No, probably not. I don't think soft drinks will be high on anyone's list of things to bring back after, or _if _we ever get back on our feet as a society." Zack could hear the giant sigh in his brother's voice even though he wasn't looking at him.

"That's what been on your mind all morning, isn't it?"

"Mostly, yes. I've been thinking of how everything is just so...so..I don't even know the word for it."

"Fucked up."

"Not quite the word I would have chosen but yeah. Let's go ahead and assume that we do someday get rid of all the zombies. Do you realize how long it will take for anything resembling our old society to come back around?"

"I'm guessing a long time, right?" Zack asked, hating how stupid he must have sounded to his brother. He hadn't given the idea a single second of his time since zombies began eating the world he knew.

"A hundred years. Maybe hundreds. If it ever happens at all."

"You don't think it will, do you, Cody?"

"Am I that obvious?" Cody frowned and sipped his drink.

"I've known you for a while now, remember? Plus, you wouldn't sound so down about it if you were thinking happy thoughts."

"You're right. I just don't see how it can happen. There might not even be enough of us left to make up a viable breeding population."

"Okay, see, here's the problem with all that, Cody." Zack held his finger up to keep his brother quiet while he inhaled the other half of a Snickers bar. "It's like this. Right now, right this minute, it doesn't matter. Not a bit. Maybe sometime down the road we'll run into your problems but for now I think we have more important things to worry about than trying to rebuild the country."

"Like staying alive?"

"Exactly," Zack said, patting him on the shoulder. "I know that won't make you stop thinking about it because that's how you are but maybe it'll help you keep from thinking about it too much."

"It's hard, Zack. I'll be walking and my eyes will wander over something and my brain tries to figure out how long it would take us to get back to where we could build it." He looked at the ground and tried to collect his thoughts. "This can, for example. How long before there's enough of us to plant a crop of sugar cane or sugar beets to get the sugar for it? Or mine the aluminum to make the can?"

"What's a sugar beet? Never mind, I don't really care. Anyway, I can't believe I'm saying this but I think a quote from your favorite movie applies here. Remember how in the beginning of the first Star Wars movie the old guy Jedi-"

"Qui-gon."

"Right. Him. He told the young guy-"

"Obi-wan."

"Can I make my point already? Thank you. So he told Obi-wan to keep thinking about the present and let the future take care of itself."

"That's not how he said it, Zack." Zack shook his head and smiled. He was obsessed with all things sports while Cody, bless his nerdy heart, was probably the biggest Star Wars dork in the history of the world. Or what was left with it. He suffered through Cody's lecture as he enjoyed another candy bar, not wanting to tell Cody to stow it in case he regressed to the silent, moody Cody of a few minutes ago. He suddenly realized all the times he'd done the same thing to everyone else when he went on and on about basketball and smirked. Was that irony? Zack wasn't sure which of those literature words he wanted.

Zack started listening again for a second. "...and Han Solo told..." Yep, Cody was still at it. Zack nodded in the appropriate places and started wandering around the store and began putting candy and sodas in his bag while Cody rambled. "...R2D2 beeped that he found..." He'd nearly filled it by the time Cody was winding down.

"...and that's what happened after Luke married Mara Jade." Zack had no idea who that was but it didn't matter since Cody seemed to have enjoyed telling his little story.

"Yeah, I guess that all makes sense," he said and Cody smiled. "Now how about we get a move on? We're burning daylight."

"Yeah, we should." They rounded up their bags and left the store, returning to the road after doing a quick scan for zombies. The sun was almost directly overhead now and they began pouring sweat before they'd made another mile. Zack pushed his damp hair from his forehead and Cody adjusted the bill of his hat to shield his eyes.

They exchanged the random chitchat that they'd both grown accustomed to during their trek and it wasn't long before Zack returned to the subject that occupied most of his attention. "We're finding some guns today, Cody. I can feel it."

"I hope so. After yesterday I feel almost naked without one," Cody admitted. "The idea of shooting a gun scares me but not nearly as much as not having one does."

"We will. We're overdue to find some. Besides, I'm getting tired of strolling the streets with just my pretty face and quick wit."

"The survivors in the movies always get guns by now, huh?" Cody tactfully refrained from making a joke at his brother's expense.

"Yes they do. And if we were playing a video game, we'd already have guns and would be finding the _good_ guns anytime now."

"If we were playing a video game I would have turned it off and read a book by now," Cody told him.

"Yeah, that's the truth." Their conversation hit one of its occasional lulls and Zack was trying to think of something to say to keep Cody's mind occupied when he saw a police car with a body laying partially out the door in the median ahead of them. "We might have just got lucky."

"How?"

"Cop car. With what might be a cop in it. Cops usually have guns. Come on." Zack led the way and Cody followed a few steps behind, keeping a wary eye to balance his brother's tunnel vision. "Hell yes!" Zack exclaimed, followed less than a second later by "what the hell?" Cody raced to his brother's side and just as quickly turned away when he saw the mottled skin and the clouds of flies.

"I know what they were and if you say anything about what was all over the backseat of the car, I'm going to puke, Zack."

"At least you aren't in the car with him and smelling it," Zack said as he gagged. "He must have been bitten and took care of things before he turned." Zack pulled the collar of his shirt over his nose and mouth and leaned in and tried to pry the gun from the dead officer's fingers. "Oh come on already, give me the damn gun. You don't need it anymore," he said to the body as he finally managed to rip it away, jerking the body enough to allow a huge amount of decomposition gases to erupt in a massive belch of death.

Zack stumbled back, fumbling for a good hold on the gun as he fell. He was able to to get his hand around the pistol's grip and aim it away from the two of them as he hit the ground. The world seemed to stand still as each boy waited for it to go off and they both let out pent up breaths when it didn't.

"That," Cody said after he forced down a series of dry heaves, "was the most disgusting thing I've ever smelled in my life." His skin had gone a ghostly pale.

"Yeah, definitely worse than me after we did pizza and wings on our last birthday."

"You aren't helping any," Cody told his brother after he'd moved to the other side of the car and sat down against the door. He put his head between his knees and tried to will his stomach to settle.

"Sorry." Zack put the gun down between his legs and slowly sat up. "You wouldn't want to see if he has another clip or two on him, would you?" Cody laughed in response. "I didn't think so." Zack crawled back over to the car and searched the man as best as he could on a single breath and retrieved a second.

"Do you even know how to shoot a gun, Zack?" Cody asked once he got things under control and rejoined his brother a short distance away from the car.

"In theory, yes. You do this, this, and then aim and pull the trigger," Zack demonstrated, taking aim at a nearby tree and missing completely. "The sights must be off," he said as the sound of gunfire faded away.

"Yeah, that's what it is."

"Hey, I'm like Shaq. I'll make the shot when it counts."

"I hope so."

Now armed, but possibly not yet dangerous, they continued down the road past swaths of houses and apartments and corner stores. Zack practiced his shooting every mile or so and Cody couldn't argue that he was slowly improving. He could and did argue about Zack going through their limited supply of ammo as quickly as they were going through their water.

"We can find more of both, Cody. Relax. We have the gun and that's apparently the hard part to find around here. We can get bullets, and more water, too," he told his brother as he dumped some over his head. If he didn't know better, Zack would have sworn that it evaporated as soon as it touched his hair.

An hour later they were sitting on a bench in the shadow of a burned-out McDonald's. Cody had called a break when the road started swimming in his eyes and his feet felt like cement blocks. He might have fallen off the bench when he first sat down if Zack hadn't lent a steadying hand.

"Okay, I think we need to rethink our travel plans," Cody said once he'd downed an entire bottle of water. "It might only be the end of June but it's already as hot as the end of August. If we keep walking in heat like this we're going to end up like worms on a sidewalk."

"Yeah, but the zombies are always more active at night, right? Isn't that what you said?

"That's what it looks like to me. But I think that now that we're out of the city and into the 'burbs, we won't see as many so we could probably move at night."

"Or we could steal a car," Zack opined. "I've been watching the roads and they're a lot clearer now than they were just a day or two ago." He waved a hand at the street in front of him and pointed out the double handful cars in sight, only half of them really even in the road.

"I don't think it would really be stealing anymore but I think you're right. We can stock up on supplies and put all this in the rear view mirror. There's got to be a Walmart or something around here."

Zack looked over at him as if he'd just uttered the dumbest thing ever said. "A Walmart? Are you serious?"

"I have the feeling I'm about to get another dose of _Zack's Zombie Lore, _aren't I?"

"Yes you are. Big box stores are death traps. Everyone rushes to places like that to get whatever they can and if there's one infected person in there, they can infect everyone. It's like that vampire tag game we played when we were little."

"Sounds just like how you said malls work."

"Because it is. Just like a mall, there aren't very many ways into a big box store. So zombies are inside and they're too stupid to figure out how to find a door. But there's a difference between a mall and a big store. We're going in the first one we find."

"We are?" Cody was supremely shocked.

"Yes we are. As much as I don't want to, I think we need to. I was hoping we could pick up what we need along the way but that hasn't exactly worked out so far. We can get everything we need in one place. Hopefully, anyway."

Cody issued a silent prayer of thanks to whomever might be listening and then frowned before he even realized it. That was part of the stumbling block his mind was trying to get around and sort through things. _Not now, Cody, _he told himself. "We should be able to stock up and if it goes right, we won't even be in there that long."

"One way or the other, Cody, we won't be in there that long. No window shopping. We're going in, getting what we need, and going right back out. Ten minutes, tops. Now let's go."

Cody was beginning to think that they'd used up their quota of luck for the day when they found the gun. They'd been on the move until they were dragging long shadows behind them before one of Zack's ZombieMarts at last came into view. They settled down on a small hill at the edge of the parking lot and surveyed the scene.

"Only a few cars in the lot, that's probably a plus," Zack said mostly to himself as he looked through the binoculars. "Just one geek walking around the side of the building. That might be good or bad."

"Geek?"

"Another name for a zombie. So is gomer. It was in some movie."

"Naturally."

"Here's the plan, Cody. We're going to leave our bags by the front door so they don't weigh us down while we're moving around in there. Once we're inside, we grab a cart and throw as much stuff into it as we can and we get out. We grab our bags and find a safe place to go through everything we grabbed and take what we really need and leave the rest."

To say that Cody was impressed would have been an understatement. His brother hadn't ever been known as a boy that thought any further than three minutes ahead. "Zack? I want to know, and I mean this without any kind of disrespect, but how much of this have you thought out?"

"Honestly? You're going to call me a dork but the answer is a bunch." He slipped back down from the small hill's slope and looked at Cody. "There's a file on my laptop back in the hotel called _Lunch Meat_. It used to be called _Zack's Zombie Diary_ but that sounded too girly so I changed it. Anyway, I thought about certain things I thought we'd be likely to run into and figured out the best way to deal with them. Or at least better than everyone does in the movies. Like what we're about to do. It never goes good because these places are just too big and there's too many places where you could just walk around a corner and be nose to nose with a gomer before you know it. So whenever we went shopping with Mom I'd try my best to remember where everything was and put it in the file when we got home.

"I've had to change a lot of it on the fly, though. When I made all the plans I figured that Mom..that Mom would be with us."

"Zack, I don't know what to say." He put a hand on his brother's shoulder and offered a small squeeze.

"I'll take that as a compliment. Come on."

The twins jogged across the parking lot and stopped behind the car closest to the store and watched for a few seconds. When they were sure there wasn't going to be a massive undead welcoming party coming out to greet them, they scurried the last few yards to the door and dropped their packs and grabbed a cart.

The first thing Zack noticed was that it was a lot darker in the store than he had expected. Even with the skylights in the ceiling it was still gloomy. He led Cody to the left and into the clothes racks. "Underwear, socks, shirts, shorts, and a pair of shoes," he half-whispered. They hadn't heard a sound so far but Zack didn't want to take any unnecessary chances. He stood guard while Cody threw handfuls of packages into the cart, keeping an eye out for zombies as well as to be sure at least one pack of boxers landed in their stash. They took a longer pause at the shoe display and it was making Zack nervous. He'd already thrown a box of boots into the cart and was ready to move on.

"I can't find a pair of Chucks in my size. There's everything but size sevens."

"Jeez, little foot. And Chucks? Come on." Zack rapidly searched the boxes and found a pair of steel-toes in Cody's size and tossed them in the cart. "You can't kick a zombie in the face with a pair of Chucks."

"I don't want to kick a zombie in the face in the first place," Cody mumbled as he followed Zack down the aisle, grabbing a few t-shirts from one rack and a whole handful of cargo shorts from another as he passed.

After a detour during their attempt to find bigger packs, in which Zack cursed whoever designed this particular Walmart for not making it exactly the same as all the others with words that made the tips of Cody's ears turn red, they had new gym bags and were on the way to the sporting goods department, dropping two battery powered lanterns in the cart as they passed them.

"Maybe we can find a shotgun or two while we're here," Zack said to himself, not believing there was much of a chance of that after seeing how picked over the store seemed to be. They found the counter and the locked cases behind it. "Thought so." The cases were shattered and there wasn't a gun to be seen. He heard Cody's sigh of disappointment.

"There's nothing here."

"Aah, but there is." Zack squatted down and opened the bottom of the case and began pulling boxes of ammunition out. "Now we have the shells. We'll find a shotgun." He put four boxes of 9mm and another four of shotgun shells in the cart and they were off again.

"Sheesh, these shelves are about as bare as can be," Cody whistled as they strolled through the food aisles.

"Yeah, someone sure stocked up. Too bad we don't need mustard or salad dressing since that's about the only thing they didn't take." Zack was barely exaggerating. Everything that didn't require cooking or other preparation was gone. A few cans of Spam, a few cans of baked beans, and a box of crackers was all they had to show for their troubles.

"We should see if they have any water while we're here," Cody said as he steered the cart. Zack started to say no but decided it couldn't hurt to check. As it turned out, there was no water but they did manage to find a couple bottles of Gatorade. Zack's attention, however, was drawn to the only partially emptied beer cooler in the next aisle.

"I thought that this would have been cleared out for sure," he said as tried to figure if a case would fit on the bottom rack of the cart.

"That's probably because being drunk isn't a very good way to survive a zombie apocalypse, Zack," Cody chided,his voice taking on his mother's inflection. "And no, you're not taking beer with us."

"Have you ever drank a beer before, Cody?"

"No I haven't."

"After tonight you can scratch that off your list of things to do before you die."

"Drinking a beer isn't very highly ranked on my bucket list."

"Well, since all the girls we've seen so far have been either dead or walking around trying to eat us, you might want to re-rank things and move 'feeling a boob' down a few notches."

"Who said anything about touching girls being at the top of my list?" Cody asked as Zack grabbed a six pack and put it in the cart despite a stern look.

"Touching boys then. I don't care. Let's go already."

"That's not what I meant."

"You mean you...you have not!" Zack all but yelled in the silent store.

"Hush! Maybe I have, maybe I haven't. The way I see it, it isn't any of your business anyway."

"We're brothers. We're supposed to tell each other things like that. I'd tell you," Zack told him, unsure if Cody was simply messing with him or willfully breaking one of the unwritten rules of brotherdom – Thou Shalt Tell Thy Bro When Third Base Hath Been Reached.

"Just for the record, I really wouldn't want to know if you'd done that or not," Cody retorted, and then a giant smile bloomed on his face. "Wait...so since you haven't told me, does that mean I did it before you did? Oh that's awesome." Zack didn't reply and Cody snickered. He turned the cart and told Zack to follow him, that they had one more stop to make before they left.

"What else do we need? We've been in here for too long already."

"Toothbrushes among other things. I haven't brushed my teeth in three days and who knows how many days it's been since you brushed yours."

"Five. Just hurry up." Zack stood guard while Cody went down the aisle and tossed two toothbrushes, some paste, deodorant, and a bar of soap in the basket before he rejoined his brother. "Now can we go? My internal alarm clock is screaming."

"Yeah, we're done here." Zack led the way as they all but ran back up to the front of the store and out the doors. They snatched up their packs and sprinted across the parking lot as fast as they could push the cart and merged back onto the main road. Once away from alleys and side streets, they slowed their pace back to a walk.

"It's getting late," Zack said. "We should find a place to hole up in and check out our loot." They still had at least an hour of daylight left but neither boy wanted to still be looking for a place to spend the night when darkness fell. As if to prove Zack's point, two zombies came stumbling from a back yard, one stopping in mid-lurch and falling on its face when its tattered clothing hung up on a fence post. "But first, target practice."

Zack raised the pistol to eye level, squinted, and aimed down the short barrel. He lined up the sights and had the zombie's head centered. "Later, geek," he said as he pulled the trigger. The zombies spun in a circle when the bullet hit it in the shoulder. "What the hell?" Zack aimed again, this time holding his breath just before he pulled the trigger. The zombie's head exploded and Zack pumped his fist. He offered Cody the gun for the second zombie.

Cody took it and instantly didn't like how it felt in his hand. He was wielding the power to take life and it frightened him. He swallowed hard and braced the gun with his other hand as he pointed it at the zombie as it was ungainly rising to its feet. "Now, I am become Death, destroyer of worlds," he whispered to himself as he pulled the trigger. The thing's body quickly fell back to the ground as Cody did in one shot what took Zack two.

"What'd you say before you shot him?" Zack asked after Cody handed the gun back.

"It's what the man that made the first nuclear bomb said when it was set off in New Mexico. It seemed fitting."

"I guess. Now let's beat feet," Zack said, his dislike of being caught in the open beginning to get the better of him.

"I think I found our place for the night," Cody announced as the road they were on came around a small set of hills.

"A gym?"

"Yep. If I'm right about what we'll find inside, you'll see why." Zack wanted to know why but Cody held his tongue and wouldn't ruin the surprise. They approached the building as carefully as they had any other and found that it, unlike just about everything else they'd seen, hadn't been broken in or burned down. They let themselves in quietly and barricaded the door behind them and stood in the stillness of the lobby.

"You planning on telling me why we're sleeping in a gym tonight instead of a house now?"

"Because this place looked big enough from the outside to have a lap pool in it."

"So we're going to swim?"

"No, because I don't know how good the water will be after this long. What we're going to do is take a bath. It'll still be clean enough for that. I don't know if they ever mention it in any of your zombie movies, but people who haven't bathed in going on two weeks smell. I'm sure I do and I know you do."

"Yeah, you do, Cody. I was just being nice and not saying anything about it," Zack joked.

"Thanks, but it might be one of the things that could lead a zombie to us. The stronger we smell, the bigger we could be on their radar."

"They can smell us, too?"

"I think so. I'm pretty sure that's how they found us when we were sleeping in that apartment. As far as I could tell, none of them saw us go in there and I can't think of any other way for them to track us."

"Man, that's just not fair. They can see us, hear us, and now smell us. That's crap."

"As long as they don't taste us, I don't care. Now let's see if we can find that pool," Cody said as he grabbed the bar of soap and the lanterns from the cart. "We'll go through all this when we're cleaned up."

They walked the halls and passed through the locker room before they found it and Cody was pleased when the water was still smelled faintly of chlorine. They turned the lanterns on and set them next to a stack of towels, their light adding to what still filtered through the skylights. They began stripping out of their sweat-soaked, salt-ringed and slightly ill-fitting clothes. Never planning on wearing them again, they simply tossed them into a pile before hopping into the pool.

"Oh this feels good," Zack said as he floated on his back with his eyes closed. "I feel cleaner already."

"You're still using soap. And stop floating like that. Some things are best left unseen."

"Why don't you just turn around?" Instead, Cody took a breath and slipped under the water, swimming inches above the bottom of the shallow pool until he was directly beneath his brother. He squatted down and thrust upward, his hands making contact with the small of Zack's back. Zack did a backwards flip and landed with a loud splash and came up sputtering.

"I should be mad at you for that, Cody, but it was actually kind of cool. Just don't do it again."

"Don't float with your junk on the surface and I won't."

"Deal," Zack told him even though he was considering doing it again.

The boys spent the next few minutes scrubbing and relaxing before they finished up. Cody was out of the pool and had himself wrapped in a towel from the stack before Zack had a foot on the deck. The older twin shook his head as he grabbed one and pulled it casually around his waist. They strolled back to where they'd left their supplies and put together a small meal from the day's haul.

"It's a good thing Spam isn't disgusting or anything," Zack said sarcastically as he spooned it onto a cracker.

"You can always go back and pick up a bottle of mustard if you want," Cody offered. Zack impolitely declined.

"We're going to have to learn how to hunt one of these days. I don't know about you but I need more than this stuff in my belly."

"You're right. I don't know if you've noticed but we've both lost weight." Zack looked down and saw that his brother was right. He hadn't quite ever crossed the line from husky to chubby despite his typical teenager diet, but the couple of extra pounds that he'd been carrying around for the last year or two had disappeared and he'd taken on a leaner, harder look. His brother looked worse off than he did, having lost enough to pull the skin tight across his ribs.

"Weight Watchers should look into this plan," Zack said as he dusted the crumbs off his chest and the towel. "Let's see what all we have here." He began unloading the cart and soon had it sorted. Clothes made up the biggest pile followed by their ammunition. Food, unfortunately, was the smallest pile. Even with what they had in their old packs, they were looking at no more than a two or three day supply.

"We have more underwear than food. That is so incredibly wrong," Cody said as he stood over the supplies.

"You put them in the cart, Cody. I just watched out for geeks." He rooted through the clothes until he found some boxers and ripped the pack open.

"You're going to put those on right here, aren't you?"

"Um, yeah," Zack said as he dropped the towel and slid them up his legs. "Why?"

"Because I'm right here beside you."

"Okay, we need to have a talk," Zack told him once he had them pulled up to his waist. Cody's insane modesty had always bothered him. _He swam with a shirt on until he was twelve_ _for crying out loud! _"Here's how it is. I don't know what your problem with being naked is but whatever so here we go. One, I don't care. Two, your body is the same as mine so you shouldn't care. Three, and this is the important one so listen up, the days of going off to some other room to change is over. You might go in there and not come back out. You'll be busy changing your drawers and get bit and then I'm out of brothers. Do you see what I'm saying, Cody? I'm not doing it to show off or make you feel bad. I'm doing it because it shouldn't matter and I don't want to let you out of my sight if I can help it."

"I...never thought about it like that," Cody told him as he pondered his brother's points. "It's just weird to me, I guess. I never played sports like you did or showered with the guys."

"It's not a big deal, really. Everyone is basically the same. Anyway," Zack said as the absurdity of the conversation and where and when they were having it occurred to him, "Now let's go through all this and get to bed."

They sorted through the clothes, each boy picking out a few shirts and shorts to go along with their new underclothes and pushed the rest aside. Cody dressed in his new clothes, albeit shyly and turned to the side, but he didn't disappear to do it and Zack considered that a win. If space and weight were not a consideration, they'd have brought them all along but it simply wasn't possible. Too much gear would slow them down and wear them down physically, not to mention they could always find more if and when they needed it. They stowed everything in their new duffel bags, Cody absently wondering why Zack packed his so fast before his attention returned to his own work.

Zack had, or at least thought he had, moved his stash of porn from one bag to the other when Cody wasn't looking. He had briefly considered showing it to him but after the little talk they'd just had, the time didn't feel right. They'd split the bullets and shells between them and Zack was surprised at how heavy something as small as those boxes could be. He also took the beer bottles out of their box and put them in one of the bag's pouches, wrapping them up in some of Cody's extra underwear so they wouldn't _clink _against each other constantly while he moved. When everything was sorted and put away, they retired to the locker room by lanternlight and made their beds on the couches.

"Do you think we should sleep in shifts, Zack? Keep a watch?"

"We should. I've been thinking about it since the apartment but we've been too exhausted. We should have been doing it then. Heck, we really should have been doing it even back at the Tipton."

"I'm really not tired right now," Cody said. "I'll take the first watch and you can sleep for a few hours and then I'll wake you up."

Zack thought about it for a second before answering. "There probably isn't a point to do it now since we've only seen a handful of gomers all day, but it would be a good idea for us to get into the habit."

"I'll take the first one and wake you up at around midnight." Zack checked his watch and saw that would give him almost three hours of shut-eye.

"Sounds good to me." He handed the gun over to his brother after making sure the safety was on and showing him how to turn it off. Cody took it and stuck it between his belly and his shorts' waistband. "No, not like that. You're likely to blow your nuts off that way. Put it in the back if you're going to carry it like that."

"Then I'll blow my ass off."

"Better that than the front side, Cody."

"True. How about I just carry it until we can find a holster?"

"That's probably a very good idea. Now don't wander off too far. Even with the gun you aren't really much of a match for a bunch of zombies."

"Trust me, I'm not planning on it," Cody told him as Zack buried himself under his towel-blankets.

_Okay, I'm not even going to lie and try to tell you otherwise, I think most of this chapter is rather boring and doesn't move the story along very much. However, it does set up a lot of what's going to happen later on in the story so I guess that's okay._

_Someone PM-ed me and asked (and I somehow managed to delete it and don't remember who it was) if I listen to any music while I'm writing the chapters. Usually, yes. Most of Carey's chapter was written to Nine Inch Nails' _Year Zero_ disc (which I think is an incredibly fitting disc for this story), especially _Survivalism_ and _The Great Destroyer_. The latter of the two is her unofficial theme song in my eyes. This chapter was mainly NIN's _Pretty Hate Machine_ (see a pattern here?) _

_And for the record, Cody isn't the biggest Star Wars dork in the world. I am._


	6. Chapter 6

Cody didn't plan on going far from his brother's sleeping form while he was on watch but his sense of curiosity got the better of him. He picked up the gun in one hand and the lantern in the other and started walking, first checking and rechecking the fire door that led outside from the locker room before venturing into the rest of the gym. Their barricade was still holding strong and he heard nothing from the outside to make him believe that they would be getting very unwanted company any time soon.

He strolled across the main floor of the gym, stopping occasionally at a piece of equipment as he tried to figure out how on earth it was used. Most times he'd simply have to shake his head and move on when even the diagrams stenciled on the machines didn't help. He continued and walked past the basketball court and found the stairs to the second floor. Cody looked back toward the locker room, momentarily thinking about returning, before heading up the steps to the second floor and its lap track and stationary bikes and treadmills.

Giant windows overlooked the parking lot they'd crossed on the way in and he doused the lamp and studied the outside world in the moonlight. He would flinch at every recessed shadow, thinking it a zombie shambling its way toward them, and then frown and call himself an idiot when he saw it was nothing at all.

"Calm down, Cody," he told himself. "Stop being such a scaredy cat. There isn't anything out there. "

As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he saw that wasn't entirely true. There were a few zombies in his field of view, all of them ambling aimlessly and thankfully not in his direction. He sat down and watched them, wishing he'd thought to bring the binoculars so he could study them better. As he watched, he saw that they ran the gamut in their movement. One could barely manage to step without almost losing its balance while another seemed to have a gait quite like that of a normal human. And that one was fast, too, covering what Cody estimated to be fifty feet in less than twenty seconds.

"How are they so different?" he asked aloud. "What makes that one fast and the drunk looking one so slow? Is it injured? Did the infection affect them in different ways?" Cody leaned back on his hands and wished he had someone with the answers to his questions. He eventually grew tired of spying on the zombies and decided to continue his tour of the building. Lantern in hand, unlit until he was away from the windows, he went back downstairs and made his way to the employees-only section of the building.

He walked through the swinging doors and nearly wet his pants when the door swung back and hit him on his backside. "Shit!" he whispered and waited for his thundering heartbeat to subside. Lockers spanned one wall with names and numbers on them, small offices were on another wall, and what looked like a loading dock on the far wall. Cody looked around and walked to the sliding metal door and lifted up on it, expecting it to be locked and surprised when it wasn't.

He got down on his knees and lifted it up a few inches to peek out and found himself looking into what had to be the back of some sort of delivery truck. Puzzled, he lifted the door a bit higher and saw he was right. After another moment of indecision, he stood up and pushed the door all the way up on its rollers. Cody stepped into the back of the truck and found a small sliding door between himself and the front seats. He slid it open and looked at the steering column and the set of keys still hanging in the ignition.

"Outstanding," he whispered to himself. "We don't have to walk tomorrow." Cody made sure the doors were locked and windows up so they wouldn't have any surprise guests when they left in the morning. He pocketed the keys and walked back into the building, closing the door behind him and slipping the bolt through the hole. "Just in case," he told himself.

Cody made his way back to the locker room and settled in on the other plush couch. He picked up a muscle magazine and spent the next hour or so being awed at the freaks of nature he saw on the pages. He looked at one of his arms and flexed and saw next to no bump where his bicep should be. He laughed at himself and then at the guys in the pictures. "Bet at least one part of me is bigger than those steroid junkies," he said as he closed the magazine and set it on the large table.

As the time until he was to wake Zack up dwindled, he began yawning more and more. Cody began running through his small inventory of staying-awake tricks and found that they weren't up to the task. He looked at his brother sleeping so soundly and deeply that he felt bad for having to wake him early.

"Zack, wake up, Zack," Cody whispered as he starting shaking his twin's shoulder. Normally it took either an act of Congress or a small explosion to wake the boy up but he was up in a flash and had his hand around Cody's throat before he even realized it. "Zack, it's me," he croaked as he beat at the choking hand.

"Oh shit! I'm sorry, Cody," Zack said as he let go as fast as he'd struck. "Shit. Are you okay?"

"Pretty much," Cody replied as he rubbed his neck.

"I didn't...I don't know why I did that. Holy shit." Zack laid back down on his makeshift bed and put his hands over his eyes. "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, Zack. You didn't really hurt me," Cody told him, but the way he was massaging his throat said otherwise. "Anyway, I know it's a little early but I was starting to nod off."

"Not a problem, Cody. Get some rest and I'll hold the fort down for a while." Zack kicked his blankets off and stretched while Cody took off his shoes and shirt and slid into bed. Zack had barely retrieved a Monster from his bag and popped the top before his brother was out, buried so far under the towels that all Zack could see was some blond hair and the black shoulder strap of his wife beater. "And a good night to you too, bro," Zack snickered as he took a healthy hit from the can.

He started to pull on some clothes but stopped, deciding that there really wasn't a point. He settled for his new boots and slid the pistol into his boxer's waistband. Easy reach at the hip, he thought to himself as he pretended to draw it like a gunfighter from the old west. "I'm your huckleberry," he said in his best Doc Holiday impersonation. Cody snored his disapproval.

Zack unknowingly followed his brother's footsteps and found the stairs to the second floor. He leaned against one of the treadmills and gazed out the windows and saw huge banks of clouds rolling in, eating up the moon and stars. "We're gonna get pounded," he muttered. "Better now than in the morning, I guess."

Now that his brain had warmed up from the caffeine, it shifted into high gear. Assuming they did make it to the farm, because there were only about 50 million zombies between here and there, should they stay there all winter? Would the zombies freeze? Would it kill them if they did or would they just thaw out and go back to munching on survivors when it warmed up? Zack shook his head. He hadn't ever planned out anything like that in his zombie diary. What if they went to somewhere warm during the winter months? Like the Bahamas. It would be much easier than trying to stay warm in the middle of the Great Plains. Were there geeks in the Caribbean? How hard could it be to drive a boat?

"Oh, whatever," he mumbled after his mind went on with another dozen what-if questions that he couldn't possibly answer. Would they rot eventually? He rolled his eyes and wished he had something to distract himself. "Sure could go for some tv right about now. Maybe some microwaved popcorn and a chocolate milkshake." Zack turned away from the windows and walked back to the steps. "Yeah, and while I'm dreaming, I'll take a helicopter and a zebra, too. And court side seats to the Celtics. And a solid gold toilet seat. Just because."

Zack took the steps slowly and tried to keep his mind from wandering too far. "I really want some pork chops. And we need to find a map." The more he walked around the gym, the more the utter silence unnerved him and the more his mind tried to come up with things to occupy itself. Zack found himself humming songs he hadn't thought of in years and making lists of every single teacher he'd had since Kindergarten.

His hums were soon drowned out by rain pounding down on the roof. He looked up, half expecting it to give way under the deluge and flood them out and half wondering why someone would make roofs out of metal in the first place. It was like being in a room full of hyperactive kids shaking coffee tins filled with rocks. Zack soon wished for utter silence again as he left the equipment area of the gym and its vaulted ceiling and retreated to the relative quiet of the locker room.

Cody was still sleeping but it didn't look much like peaceful sleep to Zack. His eyes drifted over to his bag and the secret stash of porn it held as he cursed the rain or hail or whatever was throwing itself against the building. Cody never slept through storms well and Zack knew that the very second he was engrossed in one of the magazines, Cody would wake up and _that _was a conversation he didn't want to have again.

He smirked as he thought about it, though. He had been caught _in flagrante delicto _by Cody about two years ago and got a lecture about how pornography was degrading to women and how he wasn't even old enough to look at it and blah blah blah. Zack, always the early-bloomer, had simply covered up and told Cody to come back when his balls dropped. "Yeah, we're not doing that again. No thanks." He tore his eyes away from the bag and picked up a two month old _Sports Illustrated._

They traded watches twice more during the night and each passed uneventfully. When Cody woke his brother for the final time, he was already dressed and dangling a set of keys in front of him. Zack's eyes were still blurry and it took him a second to focus on the jangling mass.

"I went walking around last night and I found a very nice surprise," Cody told him.

"You found someone's keys laying around? That's great," Zack yawned.

"No, not quite. I found them in the ignition of a delivery truck."

Zack narrowed his eyes and looked at his brother. "I don't remember a delivery truck being anywhere inside the gym, Cody."

"It wasn't. I checked the loading dock and it was backed up to the door."

"Jeez, Cody. Just because you have a gun doesn't mean that you should go looking for trouble."

"I didn't. I listened at the door and didn't hear anything so I rolled it up an inch or so and looked out through the bottom and was staring into the back of the truck. And before you ask, yes, the truck was zombie-free. The doors were locked and the windows were up."

Zack was now feeling a little better about Cody's discovery. He didn't stumble into it blindly like Zack thought he did. _Maybe there's hope for him yet, _he thought. "My bad, bro. I was just worried for a minute. How much gas is in it?"

"I...don't know. I didn't turn it on."

"That was probably for the best," Zack said when he saw Cody looking a bit crestfallen. "You found the truck but didn't start it up because you might have drawn a ton of geeks down on you in the middle of the night. I would have done the same thing." Zack's words inflated his brother.

"Thanks, Zack. Now why don't you get dressed and we'll get out of here. If you behave, we'll stop for a McMuffin or something."

"Was that a joke by Mister Serious over there?" Zack laughed. "Who knew it would take a zombie apocalypse to bring out your sense of humor?" he got up and ruffled his brother's hair.

Zack got dressed and they packed up their few belongings and made their way to the loading dock. They both put their ears against the steel door and listened for any sounds and were soon satisfied that they wouldn't have unexpected guests in the immediate future. Cody pulled the bolt from the lock and they rolled the door up.

"You weren't kidding, Cody," Zack said as they walked into the truck.

"Of course I wasn't. Now help me figure out how to get the truck's door down so we can get out of here." That problem was quickly solved and Cody latched it.

"Hand over the keys," Zack told him as they looked at the front seats.

"No way. Our deal said that I get to drive first, remember?"

"Okay, fine. I don't know why I agreed to that. You haven't ever driven before," Zack said as he motioned for Cody to take the driver's seat.

"Yeah, and you have? _Grand Theft Auto _doesn't count." Chagrined, Zack sat in the passenger seat and buckled up while Cody tried to adjust his seat. "Who sat here last, Dwight Howard?" Cody mumbled, naming one of Zack's favorite NBA players (and one of the few he knew that wasn't Kobe or LeBron or Michael Jordan-did he even play anymore? Cody wasn't sure) who just happened to be about a mile tall as far as Cody was concerned.

"Yep, it was him. He moonlights as a delivery man when he's not playing basketball. He has to bring in a little extra money. Sixteen million a year doesn't go as far as it used to these days."

Cody snorted as he slid the keys in and turned the ignition, almost expecting the truck to not start. It did and he looked over at his brother with a glance that filled with a mixture of nervousness and excitement. "Let's do this." Cody slid the gearshift into D and goosed the gas pedal and the truck tentatively lurched away from the dock, throwing both of them against their seat belts.

"Stop driving like Mom. Smooth and easy on the gas, Cody."

Cody listened and had the truck going around the parking lot on a few practice laps as he got the hang of driving making sure to hit every large puddle he saw. He laughed as the water sprayed up and was soon confident enough in his abilities to swing the vehicle toward the exit and the main road beyond. He stopped at the intersection and flipped on his turn signal.

"Really?" was all Zack could say.

"I was-"

"Just go, you goof," Zack laughed.

Cody did. He pulled the truck out and aimed for the center of the road and stepped harder on the gas. They began accelerating and Zack could see a wide smile blossoming across his brother's face and couldn't help but grin a little himself. He looked in the side mirror and saw the gym already all but gone in the distance. As long as the roads stayed relatively clear they could go as far as they would all day on foot in an half an hour in the truck. He settled back against the seat and enjoyed the view.

"How is the gas tank looking?" he asked after they'd been going for a while. "There'll be an F and an E and a needle somewhere in between. Hopefully closer to the F."

"I know what it looks like," Cody shot back as he looked down at the cluster of gauges. "We've got between a quarter and half a tank. And assuming this truck gets at least fifteen miles to the gallon and its tank holds somewhere around eighteen to twenty gallons, that means we can probably get-"

"Don't care. Just drive." Zack closed his eyes and started to doze as the miles rolled past. He'd been drifting in and out of sleep for about ten minutes when he felt the truck start to slow down. He opened his eyes and saw that the road ahead had become more crowded with abandoned cars. Cody slowed down further and began weaving between them.

A metal-on-metal screech ripped the air as Cody cut it too close and sideswiped one of the cars. He muttered something under his breath and yanked the wheel to the right and did it again with another car on the other side. "Damn it."

"Calm down, Cody. Just take it easy."

"It's harder than it looks. Next time we're taking a little car instead of a truck." Cody took a deep breath and focused on finding a path through the traffic. He forced his fingers to release their death grip on the steering wheel and tried his best to relax as he maneuvered the truck around the obstacles. He made it through the maze of cars and back to the open road and wiped his brow.

Zack felt the truck accelerate and started to drift off again. He opened his eyes but they closed almost as quickly. _We've got to figure out a better way to stand watches, _he thought as he yawned. _Or we need more people. _He dropped off into strange dreams without realizing it.

Cody spared Zack a few glances as he drove. He was more than a little envious that Zack got some extra shut-eye but still avoided all the potholes that seemed to call out _hit me, Cody! Hit me! _as they neared. He drove on, reaching the hour mark according to the clock on the dashboard. Forty miles or so, he figured. Nice. His feet gave quiet thanks.

He breasted a small hill and saw a small mob of zombies wandering around in the middle of the road a half mile or so further on. Cody slowed and Zack's eyes popped open.

"What's wrong?" Zack asked.

"There's some of your geeks in the road in front of us."

"So?"

"They're in the way."

"Hit them."

"Are you crazy?"

"Probably, but that doesn't matter. Hit them."

Cody shrugged his shoulders and hit the gas, avoiding the urge to yell out "Punch it, Chewie" as he did so. The truck picked up speed and plowed into the zombies. The first one all but came apart on contact and showered the front of the truck and windshield with gore, one of its arms landing on the hood like some sort of grizzly ornament. Cody flicked on the wipers and cleared his view as he ran the rest of them under the truck.

"Okay, that was probably the most disgusting thing I've ever seen," he said as they rounded a curve and got back into zombie-free driving.

"If that creepy arm wasn't still there on the hood, I'd say it was the most awesome thing I've ever seen," Zack replied. He made little shooing gestures at the arm but it didn't move. "Next time we stop I'm knocking that thing off."

"Next time we stop it won't matter since we'll be out of gas," Cody told his brother.

As it turned out, Cody was wrong. They'd gone another ten miles and Cody was quickly discovering that driving wasn't all it was cracked up to be. Yes, it was fun for a little while but then it got incredibly boring as mile after mile rolled by and all you could see was the road in front of you and trees on both sides. And something laying across the road in front of you.

Cody slammed on the break with both feet just as Zack yelled "watch out!" and something that sounded like "spike strip!" but it was too late. They skidded across whatever it was and heard two double pops as their tires exploded and shredded. Cody fought to keep control of the speeding truck but it was impossible with only the rims touching the road. He jerked the wheel one way and then back the other as he tried to keep the truck from rolling.

Physics eventually won out and the truck went over, throwing both boys against their restraints as it rolled across the pavement before coming to a rest upside-down. Cody found himself face-to-face with a dangling air freshener as he checked to be sure he was still in one piece.

"You okay?" he asked Zack.

"I think so. Now hurry up and get your seat belt off. We have to get out of here."

"Huh?"

"Just trust me on this for now. I'll explain later," Zack said as he unlatched his belt. He pulled on the door handle and felt resistance so he put his shoulder into it and it opened. Cody did the same on his side and dropped to the ground after managing to grab their bags. "Come on," Zack called quietly and Cody followed him as he raced for the trees.

"What are we running for?" Cody asked when Zack stopped for a breather. They'd run zigzags for nearly five minutes through trees and bushes and other small plants and Cody was lost.

"Hush," Zack said as he pulled Cody's head close to his own. "That strip didn't get in the middle of the road by itself, Cody," he whispered. "Now be quiet for a few minutes."

Cody went silent and tried to help his brother listen for whatever it was he was listening for. As far as Cody could hear, the only sounds in the area were birds and his own heartbeat. He looked at Zack and got a _hang on _gesture. Zack looked like he was straining to pick up any sound. His eyes were closed and he was turning his head from side to side. Finally, he was satisfied.

"I think we're okay now. If they were coming after us, we lost them in the woods."

"Who's they?"

"Whoever set out that spike thing, Cody."

"Why would someone do that?"

"So they could take our stuff, I guess. I bet there's people picking through what's left of the truck right now."

"I hope they don't mind coming away with a bunch of nothing," Cody said wryly. "The only thing in that truck was some spare change. And why would they even bother wrecking us? It's not like there aren't dozens of places where they could get stuff around here."

"They did it because they _can. _Who's going to stop them? The police? Yeah, right. Sure, they could go to a store like we did and face the same chances of getting munched on, but why? They can just wreck whoever is driving down the road and take their stuff."

"That's just not right."

"No, it's not. But we're playing with new rules now, Cody. Fair and right don't mean anything anymore." Zack dug a water bottle from his bag and took a sip. They didn't have many left and he wanted to make it last. He was trying to figure out the best way to refill their supply when he noticed Cody was talking to him. "Huh? Sorry, Cody. I was thinking."

"I asked you how many people you think they might have wrecked."

"I don't even know," Zack said after he thought it over for a bit. "We've seen a bunch of wrecked cars in the roads around here. I didn't think to look at any of their tires, though. Maybe a few, maybe dozens."

"Maybe they aren't even around here anymore. They might have gotten bit," Cody opined as he took a drink from one of his bottles.

"Possibly. Either way, I want to get away from here. Like I said before, just because we have a gun doesn't mean we should go looking for trouble." Zack screwed his bottle's lid back on and stuck it in the bag before helping Cody up. "We'll find the road again a few miles from here."

A few miles ended up turning into a few hours as they wove their way through small towns and fields before before finding the highway again. Cody lobbied to commandeer another car but Zack vetoed that idea, saying that he wanted to get further away from the site of their accident before they got back on the road. Cody began to think that his brother was suffering from a bad case of paranoia after they'd passed the fifth car with keys still in the ignition without taking it. He didn't say anything, though. Zack had managed to get them this far and Cody trusted his brother's instincts.

It wasn't until after they'd eaten a late lunch in a baseball field that Zack said they could get back behind the wheel again. "I get to drive this time. You kind of didn't do so well the last time, Cody."

"I seem to remember having some help in wrecking the truck, you know."

"It was a joke. Calm down." They packed up and started moving again, Zack shaking his head as Cody made a detour to put their trash in a garbage can. Cody began to wish that he'd spoken up earlier as they passed car after car that either had no keys or keys and a stick shift. "I can drive one of those," Zack argued.

"Oh yeah? How do they work? When do you use the clutch?"

"They, uh..."

"You only know about them from _The Transporter, _right?" Cody had tried to explain how they worked one night while they were watching the movie. Zack was impressed that the car had three pedals instead of the usual two and how the man never seemed to use the brake. "I know I can't drive one and I damn well know that you can't drive one, Zack, so let's keep moving."

They did. Before long, their luck turned and they found a well-worn little hatchback with an automatic transmission and the keys. Zack declared he was driving this time around and settled into the driver's seat after the boys had stowed their gear in the back. Once they were strapped in, Zack turned the key and groaned as the engine struggled to turn over. It grunted and wheezed before finally catching and he popped it into gear before the car could change its mind. He peeled out and nearly ran it into a ditch before he got it under control.

"Slow and steady, Zack. It's harder than it looks," Cody said as Zack struggled with the steering wheel.

"Any slower and we might as well be walking." Zack swore and finally managed to get the car aimed down the center of the road. "And for the record, this car doesn't count as me driving since it's older than we are and sucks. I get to drive again next time we find a car with power steering that actually works."

Cody started to argue but didn't when he saw the muscles in his brother's forearm straining to hold the car where he wanted. _The last thing he needs now is a distraction, _Cody thought as he looked out the window, only partially listening to Zack swear at the car as he attempted to manhandle it around a curve.

"No wonder they left this piece of shit behind," he said, "I'd have left it on the side of the road, too. Come on, you rust bucket!"

Cody tuned him out as they drove. He opened the glove box and looked around, hoping to find a map but only coming up with the owner's manual and a ton of fast food napkins and catsup packets. He smirked, thinking that was the exact same thing he'd expect to find in Zack's first car.

For a rust bucket, the car got them surprisingly far before it ran out of gas. The afternoon had rolled by and the shadows were getting long when it began sputtering. Zack aimed it at the nearest ramp and left the highway, managing to just make it before the engine died. They coasted to the end of the ramp and Zack came to a halt at a long-dead stoplight.

"Which way?" Zack asked as they got out and looked around.

"I don't think it really matters tonight," Cody said as he pointed in each direction. "Looks like houses both ways if we go far enough."

"True. We'll go left. But not just yet." Cody looked at him with questioning eyes as Zack walked to the side of the road and grabbed the largest rock he could find. Cody knew what was going to happen next as Zack hopped on the hood and smashed the rock through the windshield. "Now we can go."

"Feel better?"

"Very much." They walked along the side of the road, each boy thinking his own thoughts, until they neared the rows of houses. Cody grabbed his brother by the shoulder and stopped him in his tracks.

"Listen!"

Zack was about to tell Cody he was crazy but then he heard it. "Music!"

"Janet Joplin, to be exact."

"Who?"

"Some woman Mom liked back in the day. I think Mom said she overdosed and died in a pool of her own vomit."

"Do you know how much vomit it would take to fill up a pool?"

"It's just an expression, Zack. But what do you think? Should we find it?"

"Stealthily. We'll scout it out and if it looks good, we'll drop in. If it smells the least bit wrong, we're out of there and no one knows we were even there." Cody agreed to that plan and they moved to the other side of the street to wrap themselves in the setting sun's shadows as the zeroed in on the music.

"These people are either really stupid, really well armed, or there aren't many zombies around here," Zack whispered as they staked out the house they believed to be the source.

"Or maybe they're just old and don't care," Cody said as he handed Zack the binoculars. "Kitchen window."

"Or that. He looks like he's every bit of fifty and she can't be that far behind." As Zack watched, the woman was wearing an apron and cooking something over a small gas camping stove while the man was chopping something up on a cutting board beside her. "They look like someone's grandparents."

"Are we doing it?" Cody's voice was eager.

Zack studied the window for another moment and then studied his brother before answering. "I think so." Zack wanted to throw the idea of visiting strangers into the fire but he couldn't. Nothing jumped out at him screaming that this was a bad idea, nothing looked wrong. That in itself bothered him slightly. "We'll stay the night if they let us." Cody looked incredibly relieved. "If nothing else, we'll get a good night's sleep out of it and maybe a hot meal."

Zack led them to a tall fence a few yards from the kitchen window. It was obviously new, he noticed. The earth around the posts hadn't settled yet. He was about to call out when the man came to the window and beat him to it.

"Don't move yet, boys. Let me turn off the defenses before you blow yourselves up." He disappeared from view and the twins turned to each other and both mouthed _defenses? _at the same time. "Okay, it's safe. Come around to the garage door and I'll let you in," the man told them as he reappeared in the window.

_Sorry this chapter took so long, guys and gals. Too much work and not enough free time for the last two weeks or so. This chapter was mostly written to University of Louisville basketball games (go Cards!), Detroit Pistons games (stop losing, please!) and...I can't believe I'm saying this, but Rihanna. I grew up on 80s glam rock and 90s grunge and industrial music and I generally think that today's music is utter garbage but she's like my dirty little secret. Of course I'll deny it if anyone asks me. Coming up next, assuming I get to go back to my normal work schedule, will be a much quicker chapter._


	7. Chapter 7

Zack hesitated before he headed toward the front of the house. Defenses? That was still hanging heavy in his mind. Cody looked at him expectantly, already a few steps ahead of him along the fence, his eyes asking Zack if he was coming. Zack took one more look at the window and followed his brother.

They reached the garage and heard sounds of bolts being thrown coming from behind the door. After a few seconds it began sliding up on its tracks and revealed a man standing on the smooth concrete with a shotgun leaning on a massive shoulder standing in front of a truck with its hood popped open. _He looks like a barrel with arms and legs, _Zack thought, trying to classify him. He almost had to take a step back to take him fully in. He might be old but Zack wouldn't bet against him in a fight.

As they were looking him over, he was doing the same to them. "A little surprised to see two boys by themselves around here these days," he said. "Why don't you two come on in? This is a quiet little corner of zombieland but we still get our fair share of foot traffic." The twins stepped into the relative cool of the garage and watched as the man lowered the door back and locked it tight. Cody noticed the SWAT stenciled on the back of his shirt while the man was bent over and latching a bottom lock.

"I don't know if you two are hungry but Martha, that's my wife, is just about finished fixing dinner. She always makes too much and it'll be nice not to be the one to eat it all for a change. It's not much unless you like Spam, which I personally don't, but she can make it taste like something better than hot mush." He looked at the twins, waiting for any sort of response. "Boo!" he said, and they both jumped. "Just checking to make sure you were alive," he grinned after they flinched and stepped back.

"Sorry, sir. I guess we're a little surprised to find anyone living here," Cody said.

"No zombie horde is going to drive me off my property, son. I helped build this house, paid it off, and I plan on dying here one day. What's your names, boys?"

"I'm Cody and he's Zack," Cody told him. Zack paid attention to his brother's exchanges with the man and could already see Cody relaxing in his company. He swallowed a frown. There'd be time to deal with that later.

"Pleasure to meet you. I'm Tom Marshall and you'll meet my darling wife Martha in a moment. Let's go inside and you two can take a load off. Bet you haven't been able to sit down and not worry in a while, huh?"

"No sir," Cody replied. "Not since we left Boston."

"Boston, huh? I always hated that city. Can't help but believe they kind of got what they deserved when it all went down. But that's neither here nor there," Tom said as he led them up the three steps into the house. "Hun, I got two starving boys here for dinner. Think we can help them out a bit?"

"Sure we can," the woman said from the stove as they came into the kitchen. Cody wasn't sure what the smell in the air was, but he liked it and his stomach rumbled. "I heard that, young man. We'll take care of that little problem."

"We don't want to eat up your supplies, ma'am," Cody offered.

"Nonsense. We've got plenty," Tom countered, "and we can always get more. But if it'll make you feel better, you can help around here a little. Some things aren't as easy for me as they used to be."

"We can do that," Cody told him, looking over at Zack for confirmation.

"Yeah, we'll help," Zack parroted, speaking for the first time.

"He _can_ talk. I was beginning to wonder."

"You leave the boy alone, Tom," his wife chided. "He's probably been through a lot." She went to the window and shut the CD player off.

"I was just having a little fun with him." He turned back to the twins. "Why don't you two go wash up. There's a bathroom at the end of the hall with a jug of water and some soap." He pointed and the boys headed down the hallway.

"They seem pretty normal," Cody said softly as they lathered up their hands.

"I guess so," Zack agreed. "So far at least."

"Maybe because they are, Zack. Stop being so paranoid. Not everyone is out to get us."

"Don't start this argument again because you aren't going to win it with me. You are the only person I completely trust, Cody, and that isn't going to change any time soon." Zack dipped his hands in the water and rinsed off, suddenly too irritated with his brother to even flick the water in his face. He dried off and tossed the towel back down on the counter. Cody rinsed and drained the sink and followed Zack back to the kitchen after he used and refolded the towel.

"Have a seat and dig in, boys," Tom told them as he pulled the chairs out. "It might not be Olive Garden but it'll stick to your ribs."

"I don't care what it's not," Cody said, "it smells delicious." Martha smiled a grandmotherly smile at him. After being told to not be shy and fill their plates, the boys began inhaling the first real meal they'd had in almost three weeks. Zack settled for seconds while Cody shocked him and went for thirds. Dinner was eventually over and they both had full bellies. Cody wiped his mouth and leaned back in his chair.

"Mr. Marshall, if you don't mind me asking, how have you two stayed here and lived, um, I guess the words I'm looking for are almost normal."

The man smiled at Cody and put his napkin on his plate. "This is going to sound like crazy person talk to you, I bet, but it goes a little something like this. When the news first broke of something really bad happening on the coast I got this feeling, like it was time to get prepared, so I maxed out the credit cards at Home Depot and came home and put the fence up the same day. Wasn't the two days later and we had our first zombies walking around the neighborhood. Not really worried about paying the interest on the card, either. MasterCard's going to have to write that one off.

"Day after that we went and got us all the food and water we could load into the back of my truck. By then just about everyone had already been bit or left town so we had our pick of anything we wanted. Tell you what, boys, I'm not a fan of anything that's not fresh after my time in the Marines, but I'll happily munch on some Spam and soup and whatever else until these zombies fall apart.

"Day after _that,_ I left Martha at home and made a little trip to the old National Guard armory with my 12-gauge lock pick and got some goodies. Remember when I said I had to turn off the defenses earlier? I got tired of shooting zombies off the fence and dragging them to the ditch behind the house so I wired some claymores along the bottom of the house just in case they manage to get over it."

"I wouldn't call that crazy person talk. I'd call that being smart and prepared," Cody told him.

"Hear that, Martha? Someone agrees with me." Martha harrumphed him and went about cleaning up the remains of dinner.

"What happened to your truck, Mr. Marshall?" Zack thought he caught a scowl crossing the man's face for a fraction of a second after Cody asked the question but it disappeared so fast he wasn't sure.

"That old cantankerous sonofabitch-"

"Tom!" his wife scolded, "language."

"Sorry, that old cantankerous piece of _crap_ died on me a week or so ago while I was on the way back with a load of water. I had to push it a good two miles back to the house." He leaned toward Cody in what would have been a conspiratorial way if it weren't for the grin on his face. "And in case you didn't notice I'm not exactly in tip-top shape anymore but don't tell my wife I admitted that to you." Cody smiled back at him and Zack pasted a fake grin on when the man looked his way.

"Have you seen many other people around here since the zombies showed up?"

"More than I imagined, to be honest, Cody. I'd say I've seen about a dozen pass by since it happened. About half of those stayed for a day or two before they moved on. Our neighbors from the end of the cul-de-sac were here for a bit, too.

"Wow," Cody exclaimed, "that's a lot more than we've seen."

"I've also talked to a group of people on the shortwave," Tom continued, "They're about half an hour away and we did a bit of trading."

"Oh?" Cody was a little surprised and he looked over at his brother with _see, not everyone is bad _look that was ignored.

"Yep. I gave them some stuff we weren't using and they gave us a bunch of propane and some other supplies. I'm hoping that I can get a generator and some gas out of them next time around. Just have to find everything they want for something that big."

"There's all sorts of things just laying around now. You should just ask them what they need and see if you can find it," Cody told him.

"Oh I did, trust me. I already have two of the things on their list."

"Maybe we can help you with that while we're here, too."

"Maybe you can, Cody. Maybe you can. We'll see." Tom patted Cody's arm and after Zack saw how his brother was all but melting into the man's hands, it was all he could do to not just Cody to go sit on his lap and let grandpa pull a quarter out of his ear.

The conversation went into a slight lull while the oil lamps were lit and the boys indulged in some of Martha's homemade cookies. They tried to beg off but she insisted, claiming that she'd made them and someone had to eat them before they went stale. "I have gas for the stove but that was the last of the butter. If they goes to waste it would be a shame," she told them and both boys found room.

"So you boys made it all this way from Boston with just your wits, huh? No guns?" Tom asked when they were finished and feeling like they could pop at any second. Zack nearly had to unsnap the button on his cargo shorts.

"No, we have a gun. We took a pistol off a dead man a few days ago," Cody told him after a sip of water, shuddering slightly at the memory.

"Actually, no we don't," Zack piped in quietly.

"What? What do you mean we don't?" Cody whirled on Zack.

"I mean that at some point I lost it."

"How the hell did you manage that?"

"I don't know, Cody, it just happened. I'm pretty sure I had it after we left the wrecked truck but I could be wrong."

"Are you kidding me? We went the better part of the day with no gun? When were you planning on telling me this?"

"I just realized it a little while ago, Cody, I swear. I noticed a little while after we left the second car and then we heard their music and I forgot."

Cody looked like he was ready to punch Zack. "Jeez, Zack. Do you think it's possible for you to be any more irresponsible? I mean..." he finished his statement with a cross between a cry and a roar.

"Easy now, Cody," Tom said as he put a hand on the boy's shoulder. "He didn't mean to do it, right Zack?" Zack shook his head no. "See? It was an accident."

"Maybe so, but now when we leave here we won't have a gun until we come across another one."

"We found that one, Cody, we'll find another." Cody still looked mad enough to spit nails.

"Yeah, it took us more than a week to find it."

"Calm down, son. Take it easy. I couldn't let you two leave here like that. I'm ex-military and ex-cop, remember? I have more guns than I could ever think about using locked away upstairs. Before you go, I'll get you both something to take with you."

"Really? Thanks, Mr. Marshall," Cody exclaimed and Zack thought his brother was going to hug the man.

"It's not a problem. And it makes me not have to sound like an ass and ask you to turn it over while you're here. I'm sure you know how to handle them but I don't like to take chances."

"We weren't very good with it anyway," Cody told him and Zack wanted to backhand his brother across the face but put his hands in his lap instead.

The light had gone out of the sky and the night was getting long. According to his watch, it was only a bit after nine but it felt closer to midnight to Zack. He yawned and rubbed his eyes. His mistrust of their hosts, unfounded as it was (for the time being, he reminded himself) wasn't going to get in the way of a good night's sleep. He yawned a second time and it was quickly echoed by his brother.

"Boys, it won't hurt our feelings any if you two want to turn in for the night," Martha told them after Cody stretched and sighed. "We're not the most exciting people in the world and I'm sure you could use the rest."

"I think we'll take you up on that offer, Mrs. Marshall. At least I will," Cody told her as he stood. "You coming, Zack?"

"Yeah, I think so. Thank you both for taking us in. We really appreciate it."

"You're welcome. There's a spare bedroom right beside the bathroom. It's only got one bed in it but it's a big mattress if you don't mind sharing."

"That will be fine, Mrs. Marshall. Zack and I have shared a bed before."

"Then it's settled. You boys go to bed and don't worry about getting up until you're ready. There aren't that many chores to do around here these days." Zack and Cody said their goodnights and another round of thank yous before retiring to the back bedroom. Cody lit a lamp and sat his bag on the bed and began rooting through it for a change of clothes.

"I guess after you change you're going to tell me I'm wrong about these people, right?" Zack said as he closed and locked the door.

"No, I'm not. It won't do me any good since you won't listen," Cody said, taking off his shirt and putting it next to his bag. "But what I will ask is this: what is it about them that makes you so sure they're going to try to kill us in our sleep?"

"I don't know that they're going to do anything like that, Cody. You might be right-they might be perfectly normal-but I don't know that. Can you at least see what I'm saying?"

"I can, but I still don't see what it is you're seeing about them."

"It's...I don't know what it is, exactly. You know how you hear lightning during the summer and you don't know what direction it came from?"

"I could have come up with a million better analogies and you hear thunder, not lightning, but yes, I think I know what you mean. Unfocused?"

"Yes. That's it. It's a very unfocused feeling. Like there's something just outside your field of vision and you know it's there but you can't figure out what it is. Blurry."

"I get it. I don't see it, but I get it." Cody dropped his shorts and slid into bed. "You planning on staying up all night or something?" he asked after Zack hadn't made the first motion to get ready for bed.

"I'm going to go wash up a little first. I feel grimy. Wouldn't mind another pool to take a bath in."

"We'll find a stream or something soon and we can clean up," Cody said as he laid his head on the pillow and got comfortable. "Just don't wake me up when you finally crawl into bed, okay?"

"I won't. Sleep tight, Cody."

"'Night, Zack."

Zack waited a few minutes until Cody was out for the night before he started getting ready for bed. Once he heard the reassuring sounds of deep breathing, he pulled off his shirt and tossed it aside. Zack then checked his brother again before reaching behind him and pulling the pistol from the small of his back. "Sorry, bro. I'll make it up to you later, promise. Something isn't right around here," said Zack as he stripped and redressed in clean clothes. He checked the safety and slid it down the front of his shorts and pulled his shirt down over it. "I'll just tell Cody it's morning wood if he notices," Zack said with a wry smile. He pulled back his half of the covers and slid silently beneath them.

The couple sat in the soft light for a while as they waited for the boys to fall asleep. Martha was flipping through an old cooking magazine while Tom nipped at a beer. They would exchange the occasional glance and she would look away before the inevitable argument started. It was coming and they both knew it. Tom just hoped she'd let him finish his beer before it happened. She did, barely.

"I still don't think this is right. What we're doing to these poor boys," she said as he sat the bottle on the small table.

"You didn't complain last time we turned people over and unless I'm mistaken, you're the one that turns the music on every day. Where do you think all the food in the basement came from? It sure wasn't from me hauling my ass all over town in that damn truck and collecting it, that's for sure. It would have taken us, no, taken _me, _a month to scavenge up that much. We're set now. And I think we might be able to get a genny out of the guys this time. Tell me that wouldn't make things a lot better around here?"

"I still don't like it."

"Then leave. Pack yourself a bag and go. Those two are going to die anyway. The nerdy one's days were numbered the minute he stepped outside his posh little hotel. For all that matters, he's already dead. He just doesn't know it yet. And the chubby, silent one? Shit. He's trying to act all tough but he doesn't have a clue. It's a good thing he dropped that pistol because he'd likely hold it backwards and shoot himself in the face." He looked his wife over. "And don't you tell me to think about what'll happen to them. I don't care."

"You should."

"I don't." Tom rolled his eyes in the lamplight and switched his tactics, remembering an old saying that it was easier to catch flies with honey than vinegar. "Look, it's like this. When I married you all those years ago I promised to take care of you through thick and thin. It's pretty damn thin now. You're more important to me than a pair of little snot-nosed brats."

Martha sighed and leaned back in her chair. "It's not fair for us to make them trade chips, Tom."

He didn't reply immediately, choosing to take a second and control his voice so he didn't wake up his sleeping guests. "Maybe it's not, but the concept of fair is kind of irrelevant at this point, wouldn't you say? I personally don't think that having the living dead walking around my town is fair but they're here, moaning and groaning and doing the zombie shuffle out there on my streets and keeping me up at night. That's not fair."

"Those boys could make it out there, Tom. They're young and resourceful."

"Bullshit, Martha. They've made it this far, I'll give them that, but it's been nothing but luck. Not skill or resourcefulness. They're dumb city kids who think they're survivalists now. Just luck. And luck eventually runs dry."

"Make the call, then," she said. "Nothing I say is going to change your mind."

"No, it won't. It didn't change my mind with those white trash neighbors of ours and their little bastard child, it didn't change it with the two others groups we've turned over, either."

"I'm going to bed," she announced curtly and got up. I'll bring some blankets out here while you're on the radio."

Tom snorted to himself as she left the room. "I'm bringing home the bacon and I have to sleep on the couch, huh? That's pretty fucking rich, Martha," he muttered. "I ought to tell them to take your ass, too." He got up and retrieved a beer bottle from the refrigerator and popped it open. It was room temperature but old habits die hard. He shut the door with his hip and walked to the garage. Tom took a deep sip from the bottle while he waited for his old shortwave radio to warm up.

"Spider, this is Web, do you copy?" he said after the box began to hum softly.

_I swear I need to plan a week of nothing but nonstop go-go-go instead of a week of doing nothing and then maybe things will turn out the way I want. Sheesh. I'd like to take a second to thank all the reviewers since I haven't done it in replies in a while. Thanks, guys and gals. This chapter was written mostly to random videos on Palladia and a little bit of UL basketball as well._

_Speaking of, the BigEast and NCAA tournaments are coming up and that's like my month-long Christmas. I'm going to do my best to get at least two chapters out during the tourney but...yeah. Multiple Louisville wins and a Kentucky early-round loss will make me a very happy writer, btw, so you now know who to cheer for and against to get quicker updates! _


	8. Chapter 8

Zack yawned and turned his head to check the other half of the bed when he finally awoke the next morning. Cody was already up and out of the room and Zack frowned. He checked his watch and saw that it was almost one o'clock. _Afternoon, _told himself. He quickly did the math and realized he'd slept for almost fourteen straight hours. "Didn't think I was _that _tired," he said as he rolled from his belly to his side, momentarily wincing as something hard dug into his hip. He was puzzled for a split second until he remembered what he was packing. "Nine millimeters of hot love...wait, no!" He shook his head and threw the covers back and got up.

Zack removed the gun and rechecked its safety before returning it to his waistband. Slipping his shoes on, he opened the door and walked across the hall to the bathroom to wash the sleep from his face. Feeling alive and fully rested for the first time in weeks, he left the back of the house and walked the hallway on a mission to find his brother.

He'd checked the living room and kitchen before he heard voices from outside. Zack went to the open window and saw the three of them on the patio sitting around a table and shaded by a large umbrella. Zack leaned closer and listened in on their conversation, trying not to notice how relaxed Cody was with the older man and his wife. He was sitting shirtless, something he'd never do with a relative stranger before now, drinking from a glass bottle, something he never did, _and that better be root beer in that bottle or I'm going to give him no end of hell after his alcohol sermon the other day, _and even had one leg crossed at the knee like Tom did. Zack scowled.

"We weren't even in China during the Vietnam War, Mr. Morgan," Zack heard from the window.

"We were never _officially _in China during the war, Cody. Trust me, I was there. Quite a few other places we weren't officially in and I was in most of them, too."

"That's cool, Mr. Morgan, none of the books I've read on it ever mentioned that before."

"'Course not, Cody. They'll never tell you everything, the government, that is. I bet there's enough secrets we'll never hear about hidden away somewhere to fill a stack of books a mile high."

"Yeah, like what really caused the zombies," Cody said as he took a drink.

"Right on target. You can guarantee that if it was some sort of governmental fuck up-"

"Ahem," Martha cleared her throat.

"Sorry, screw up, then the handful of people who know will take that little bit of information to the grave. Or they will if they haven't been bitten yet."

"But don't secrets like that fall under the Freedom of Information Act?" Cody asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"Only if people know they're there to request, Cody."

"That makes sense. Oh hey, Zack. About time you woke up," he turned and said when Zack walked out onto the deck. "I was just about to come wake you up so we could eat.

"Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Morgan. You should have woke me up when you got up, Cody," he said as he sat down beside his brother.

"I thought about it but you looked so tired last night I didn't have the heart," Cody told him and Zack was conflicted. Part of him wanted to smack his brother for splitting them up even if it was unintentional and the other part wanted to grab Cody and hug him and tell him to never lose his softer side.

"Thanks," he finally said and rubbed his brother's hair.

"Well, now that you're up, I figure we can go ahead and light the grill and make lunch. Ever had a Spamburger, boys?"

"No," Cody answered before Zack could even think about replying.

"I haven't either. I figure it can't taste any worse than it normally does so why not?" Tom pushed his chair back and walked to the grill, Cody joining him before he was halfway there. Zack watched as Tom showed Cody how to turn on the gas and hit the ignition. He grinned when Cody jumped back at the sudden flames but quickly wiped the smile from his face.

"It bothers you, doesn't it?" Martha said to him while he was lost in his thoughts.

"Huh?"

"How quickly your brother has latched on to Tom." Zack shifted around in his chair to face her. "You don't trust us either, do you? I can't say I blame you if you don't."

"Honestly, Mrs. Morgan, I don't. I don't really like any of this."

"You're definitely the older brother, Zack, even if you are twins."

"He's all I have left. I have to keep him safe no matter what."

"I know, son. You've done a good job up to now." She got up and patted his shoulder. "I should probably go get the meat ready. Would you like me to bring you a drink back out when I come?"

"Uh, no ma'am, I'm okay for now." Martha went inside and Zack was left pondering her choice of words. _Up to now? _Was there meaning hidden in there or was it just her way of saying _until now_? He was still mulling it over when she returned with a plate of patties and a plastic bottle.

"I brought you a soda anyway," she said with a smile as she strolled past and headed out to the grill.

"Thank you," Zack told her. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he made his decision. Right or wrong, rain or shine, they were leaving this afternoon. He still hoped he was wrong but whatever it was that had been slow dancing just beyond his mental grasp had picked up its step and was jitterbugging now. "As that one guy from Star Wars would say," he whispered softly, "I've got a bad feeling about this." He unscrewed the lid and took a sip once it finished foaming.

Lunch was served and it wasn't as terrible as either boy expected. The Spam could have used some cheese and the bread was more than a little dry, but it was definitely edible. Zack wiped his face with a napkin and steeled himself for what he was about to say. He stole a glance at Cody and saw him engrossed in another of the man's old war stories. _If times were normal he'd make a really great stand-in grandfather,_ he thought.

Zack finished his drink and waited for Tom to end his story, something about pushing a helicopter of the deck of an aircraft carrier in the Someplace Zack Had Never Heard Of Sea. He let Cody make a few astonished comments before dropping his bomb.

"Mr. and Mrs. Morgan, Cody and I appreciate you taking us in and feeding us, but I think it's time for us to get moving again. We've got a long way to go still." Zack waited for his brother's surprise and possible outrage and received it in less than half a second.

"What? Already? We just got here, Zack."

"I know, Cody, but we need to get back on the road."

"That's crap, Zack. We've been on the run for two weeks and now that we've finally found a safe place you want to leave almost as soon as we got here?"

Zack started to respond but Tom cut him off. "Your brother has a point, Cody. Here me out now," he said when Cody began to protest and the surprised Zack let him continue. "I wish you boys weren't leaving so soon since I was just getting used to having kids around the house again, but I can see where Zack is coming from. You're trying to get somewhere, don't know where since you didn't tell me and I didn't think it was any of my business to ask, but you figure that the longer you stay here, the harder it'll be to leave. That sound about right, Zack?"

"That's...yeah, that's about right," Zack lied, deciding that _no, you two, and you especially, Tom, have the creeper smell all over you and I want to get the fuck out of here as soon as possible _wouldn't be very diplomatic.

"Thought so," Tom said. Cody looked like he'd just seen his puppy get run down in the street. "It'll be okay, Cody. You two will be fine, we'll be fine, and once all this is over you can come back by and we'll have a real cookout. T-bones sound good to you?"

Cody forced himself to smile. "Yeah, I'd like that."

"Good." Tom reached out and patted him on the arm. "Now I think I remember saying that we'd give you two some supplies before you headed back out so you don't leave almost empty-handed like my neighbors did when they set out for Atlanta. This is a little sooner than I expected so we don't have anything ready yet, but I figure that with a little help from you boys we can have it all together in an hour." He looked to Zack to see if that met his approval.

"We'll be happy to help, Mr. Morgan," Zack said, a little surprised that it was going so smoothly. No insanity, no screaming brother, just normal. Maybe he was wrong after all.

"It's settled then. Now," Tom said as he stood up, "Most of our supplies are still in boxes in the basement and I'd have to say that Zack looks to be a little stronger than you, Cody." Cody ruefully nodded his agreement to that fact. "So, Zack, if you would, I'd like to ask you to help Martha sort through the boxes and bring what you'd like to take back upstairs. Cody, you can help me on the weapons side of things. Sound like a plan?"

Both twins said it sounded good to them and they all left the table and headed inside, Zack and Martha turning to the right and taking the stairs to the basement and Cody and Tom to the left and back toward the bedrooms.

"How much do you weigh, Cody?" Tom asked when they reached the master bedroom.

"I used to weigh about one-thirty or so before the zombies showed up. We haven't eaten all that well since and I've lost weight. Probably about one-fifteen now. Why?"

"I'm just trying to decide if you could handle one of the shotguns I have locked up or not."

"Oh. We could always find out in the back yard. I don't think anyone will call the police on us."

"No," Tom said wryly, "they sure won't. And it wouldn't be a bad idea to give you boys a few lessons before you go, either."

"Just don't tell Zack they're lessons. Tell him you want to see how well he shoots," Cody said as Tom opened up one of the room's closets and revealed a huge metal cabinet that stretched almost from floor to ceiling.

"Gotcha, Cody." Tom reached into his pocket and pulled out a key ring. He rifled through them before finding the one he wanted and slid it into the lock and turned it. The lock popped open and he withdrew the keys and let them fall between his fingers. "Shit," Tom exclaimed and began to slowly bend over.

"I'll get them, Mr. Morgan," Cody said and reached down to grab the key ring.

"Thanks, son," he said as Cody stood back up and put them in his hand.

"No problem," Cody told him and never saw the hand that hit him. He stayed upright for a few seconds before his eyes rolled back in his head and his knees buckled. Cody hit the ground like a ton of bricks.

"Sorry about that, kid. I was starting to like you. Eager to please, smart as a tack, and dumb as a bag of hammers all at the same time." Tom spent the next few minutes duct taping Cody's limp form to a chair before locking the cabinet up and sliding the keys back into his pocket. He left Cody trussed up in the bedroom and went to the kitchen to grab a beer and wait for the right opportunity to take Zack down.

Tom had just finished his beer when Zack appeared at the top of the stairs with a very large box in his hands and Martha right behind. Zack huffed and set the box on the counter and let out a grunt as the weight was gone. "I doubt we'll be able to take all of that with us but Mrs. Morgan said you two would use whatever we didn't take," Zack told him.

"She told you right. Neither of us get up and down the steps as well as we used to," Tom lied.

"Where's Cody?"

"He's in the spare bedroom packing, I think. He said something about getting everything ready before we go in the back yard and see how well you boys can shoot a shotgun. He also said to make sure I didn't call them lessons."

"Yeah, that sounds like Cody," Zack said. "I should probably go help him. If I don't, he'll take an hour to refold all his socks and then another hour to put them in order by color or something like that." Zack wiped the dust on his hands on the sides of his shorts and started down the hallway. Tom slipped a knife from the block by the sink into his back pocket and silently followed him.

"Cody? Where are you?" Zack called out as he entered the room and looked around. None of their things had been touched as far as he could tell. "Cody?" He called out a little louder.

In the next room, Cody came around just as Zack was calling out his name. The side of his face felt like someone had lit a box of fireworks off on it. Everything was fuzzy and it took him a few seconds to figure out why he couldn't move. He tried to open his mouth to call out and discovered his mouth was taped shut. Cody took a deep breath in through his nose and screamed as loud as he could into the tape. The sound was muted but he hoped it would carry far enough to at least warn Zack. He saw Tom in the hallway and screamed again.

"Cody?" Zack said as every hair on his body stood on end. He turned around to follow the sound and had almost reached the door when some ancient and instinctual part of his brain yelled at him to duck. He did, and the blow that would have hit him square on the jaw clipped him on the top of the head, staggering him instead of knocking him out. Zack shook his head to try to clear the cobwebs and saw Tom advancing on him as he caught another glancing blow to his ribs.

"I fucking knew it," Zack muttered, his hands balling into fists and rage taking over his brain. "Where's my brother? Where's Cody?"

"He's a bit tied up at the moment," Tom told him, laughing at his own joke as he pulled the knife from his pocket.

"Let him go. Now," Cody heard Zack snarl as he tried to get to his feet. Tom might have tied his hands behind the back of the chair but didn't bother with his feet, Cody noticed as he balanced on his toes and tried to not fall forward in his awkward position. He could see Tom's back in front of him and the glint of a blade at the man's side. He let out a muffled battle cry and charged the man from behind.

"Cody! No!" Zack yelped as he saw his brother smash into the man's knees. In slow motion, Zack watched Tom flick his wrist and slice at his brother and knew by the pained cry that Cody had been struck somewhere. Cody fell on his side with a grunt and Tom stumbled forward and tackled the surprised Zack, the knife flying out of his hand as they hit the floor.

"If you'd just waited a few more hours none of this would have happened, kid. You'd both still be alive. For a while, at least," Tom said as his hands found their way around Zack's neck. "Now I'm only going to get half of what I would for the both of you since you'll both be very, very damaged goods."

"Let go of me!" Zack huffed as breathing became more difficult as Tom began to squeeze.

"No sir."

"Last chance," Zack said as he snaked a hand between their bodies and started working the gun out of his shorts. He quickly found out that it was a lot harder than he thought it would be and hoped he'd have enough time before he passed out. The first spot had formed in his vision when he got it out. His thumb instinctively flipped the safety off and he jammed it into the man's stomach. Zack felt an immediate loosening of the hands around his throat.

"Never lost that gun after all, did you?"

"No sir."

"You're going to kill me now, aren't you, boy?"

"Planning on it, yeah," Zack smiled up at the man, a demonic glint filling his eyes.

"If you do, you'll go to hell. You know that right? Straight to hell."

"If there is a hell, I'll see you there," Zack told him just before Tom started squeezing again. Zack pulled the trigger and screamed. Again. And again. And again. And again until the man's hands went slack and the gun dry fired in his hand and his voice was nearly gone. Zack screamed one last time and rolled the man off him and found himself completely drenched in blood. He yelped instead of yelled and scrambled backwards and into the bed's footboard as he came crashing down from his massive adrenaline rush.

"Mmmmph!" Cody yelled from beside him and Zack was at his brother's side in a fraction of a second. He ripped the duct tape from Cody's mouth and went to work tearing the tape off his hands.

"Are you okay? Oh shit oh shit oh shit. Please tell me you're okay!" Zack wailed as he saw the blood leaking from his brother's leg. He wiped a tear away from his cheek and left a red streak.

"I'm okay, I think," Cody said as he pulled up the bottom of his shorts to the middle of his thigh.

"That's a big cut," Zack cried as he looked at it.

"It hurts like crazy but I don't think it's that deep. Get a shirt from my bag, Zack. You need to wrap it around my leg to stop the bleeding," Cody hissed. He tried to stifle a groan but failed as he worked his shorts down his legs and off and out of the way.

"Okay, right." Zack flew to their packs and grabbed the first shirt he could find and wrapped it around his brother's leg as best he could. He tied it off and sat back.

"That'll do for now but it's going to need stitches," Cody told him as he watched a few spots of blood welling up through the layers of cotton.

"How long is now?" Zack's face went immediately from concern to murder.

"A while."

"Good." Zack retrieved the gun and dropped the empty clip from it. He rummaged in his bag for a second before finding their spare and slammed it home.

"What are you doing?" Cody said as he struggled to his feet. He gasped as he put weight on his injured leg and immediately lifted it from the ground.

"Taking care of some unfinished business." Zack flicked his blood-wet hair from his head and stalked out of the room, pausing just long enough to give the fresh corpse a contemptible stare. Cody hobbled after him as quickly as he could.

"What do you—Zack, no!" Zack was already in the kitchen by then and had Martha pinned against the counter by the time Cody made it down the hallway.

"You knew. You fucking knew the whole time," he said as he put the gun against her forehead. "You fucking _knew _and didn't do a thing to stop him. You should have ran when you had the chance."

"Zack! You can't!"

Zack stepped back, still keeping the gun trained on Martha, as he looked at his brother. "The hell I can't! Cody, she knew exactly what he was doing and went along with it!" he rasped.

"Zack, don't!"

Zack turned back to Martha, dropping the gun for a second before putting it back in her face. "How many times?" he said in his ravaged voice.

"Excuse me?" Martha asked, breaking her silence.

"How. Many. Times?" the gun wavered in Zack's hand before coming to rest against the soft flesh below her chin.

"You weren't the first," she said.

"Wouldn't be the last, either, would we?"

"Probably not. Not until Tom had everything he needed."

"What were we worth, Martha? What were we going to be traded for? That's what really happened to your neighbors, isn't it? They never made it to Atlanta, did they?"

"Put the gun down, Zack, please!" Cody squeaked as he tried to get closer.

"Cody, do me a huge favor and shut the fuck up!" Zack yelled, his voice breaking with nearly every other word.

Cody did. Never in his life had he seen his brother like this. He'd seen Zack pissed off, mad, mildly angry, angry, and everything in between. But this was different. Zack was in a blood fury. Cody could almost feel the rage boiling off him. Zack was inches away from losing it and Cody had no idea how to help him.

"You haven't answered me yet, Martha," Zack said. "What were we going to be worth? What are twin boys worth on today's fucked up market?"

"A..a generator and some gas, I think," she said softly. "Maybe something else, too. I'm not sure."

"Did you hear that, Cody? That's all we're worth. A generator and some fucking gas." Zack leaned in close to Martha's face. "You do realize that you can go to just about any fucking store around here and just pick up a goddamn generator, right?" he shrieked and spittle flew. "And even I know how to siphon gas from a tank so I'm damn well sure Tom knew. Right?"

"The truck hasn't worked in a while."

"The truck...oh. Oh really? There's only a _bazillion_ cars and trucks around here, Martha." Zack stepped to the side and threw everything on the counter to the floor with one swipe of his arm. "_Fuuuuuuck!_" he started stalking around the kitchen, kicking and stomping on anything he could see. The coffee pot shattered under his foot and a plastic bottle of paprika exploded. Zack shot the useless microwave.

"Zack, come on now," Cody said in as soothing a voice as he could manage, "calm down. Please. For me."

"I don't think you realize what's going on here, Cody. She, along with her former husband, tried to _sell_ us to people just as bad, if not worse, than they are. I'm pretty sure I should put a bullet between her eyes." Zack had been leaning against the refrigerator but crossed the room and had the gun against her face again in less than a second. His eyes were getting misty and his voice began to waver as he spoke again. "I think this is the part where you tell me why I shouldn't do it, Martha. And it better be a damn good reason because I really, really want to."

"Zack, listen to yourself," Cody begged. "If you do it, you won't be any better than they were."

"So?"

"Can you live the rest of your life knowing that you took an unarmed woman's life?"

Zack didn't answer immediately. Instead, he smiled at Martha for a few seconds before saying, "Absolutely." He pulled the hammer back with his thumb and grinned again.

"Well I can't," Cody croaked. Zack's grin died on his face and the gun fell away.

"Don't you see what she did, Cody? Don't you understand?" Zack turned to his brother and Cody could see the tears spilling down his cheeks as the red cloud of rage broke.

"I do."

"Then why?"

"Because." Cody led Zack over to two of the kitchen chairs and gently pushed him into one of them and sat in the other. Zack's tears had become a torrent and Cody took the gun from his brother's hand. Zack leaned in and hugged Cody and started sobbing. Cody switched the gun from one hand to the other and pointed it at the floor by his side. "Martha, how long until the traders show up?"

"A few hours. Around five."

"With Tom dead and us long gone by then, this won't be a very safe place for you, will it?"

"No, it won't," she said, her voice regaining a little of its color now that there wasn't a gun in her face.

"Then you should go. Now."

"Where?"

"I don't care," Cody told her, his voice assuming a bit of Zack's earlier steel. "I've stopped him from killing you once but I don't know if I can do it again. I might decide I made a mistake if I see you much longer." Cody gestured to the door with the barrel of the gun. "Go."

Martha stood by the counter for a five-count before she abruptly turned and walked down the three steps into the garage. Cody listened as the bolts were thrown and the door was raised and then lowered again. He continued to hold Zack until he calmed down and got himself back under control. The minutes passed like hours but his breathing slowly returned to normal.

"You better now?" he asked when Zack released his death grip and sat back.

"Yeah, I'm good." He was quiet for a full minute before he spoke again. "I killed a man, Cody. I almost killed an old lady, too."

"He was a bad man, Zack. Really bad."

"Yeah, but what about her?"

"I think she was just along for the ride. I doubt she had much say in how things worked around here."

"Is that why you didn't want me to kill her?"

"Partially. A small part. I was really worried about what it would do to you if you did shoot her. You were walking a tight rope over a chasm of insanity. You didn't sound like yourself at all while you were threatening her."

"I don't remember much after putting the second clip in the gun, Cody. I know I did it, but I don't remember hardly any of it."

"That's probably for the best, Zack."

"That bad, huh?"

"I honestly didn't know who you were, Zack."

"Yeah, that bad."

"It's okay. You're back to normal now, right?"

"I hope so."

"Good. Now we need to get ready and get out of here before those traders show up."

Zack stopped staring at his feet and picked his head up. "How long do we have?"

"An hour and change. You were out of it for a good while."

"Great."

"It's over. Let's get cleaned up and we'll see what's next." Zack rose and helped Cody to his feet. They were both covered in blood; Zack in a mixture of Tom's and Cody's and Cody mostly in his own, and they made quite a sight.

A few minutes later found them both standing on the patio in the back yard with a dozen gallon-sized jugs of water and a bar of soap. Zack peeled his sticky clothes off and tossed them in a pile. The blood had seeped through everything and covered him from the top of his head to his ankles. Cody poured half of one of the jugs over Zack's head and watched as the concrete turned red. Zack scrubbed and the lather turned pink before Cody could rinse it off. The process was repeated five times before Zack pronounced himself clean enough for the time being.

He helped Cody out of his clothes and unwrapped his temporary bandage. He got a good look at the cut for the first time and he whistled. "Damn, Cody. Another inch or so and I'd have a sister." Zack wasn't exaggerating by much. The cut extended from the inside of Cody's thigh and raced across his quadriceps before tapering off five inches later on the outside of his leg.

"I wish I could say you're kidding but I can't." Upon closer examination, Cody saw that his initial appraisal was correct. The cut was long, longer than he thought, but not very deep. The bleeding had mostly stopped but Cody knew that it would open again at the slightest provocation. He washed it gingerly and tried to bite back the winces.

"Do you still think it needs stitches, Cody?"

"Yes," he said as Zack dumped a jug of water over his head.

"How are you going to manage that? Won't it hurt?"

"Oh yeah, it'll hurt a bunch. But I won't be the one doing it."

"Who then?" Zack asked, his mind not letting him consider the obvious.

"You."

"Huh? Are you crazy? I can't do that. I failed Home Ec, remember?"

"You can do it, Zack. I trust you." Zack looked into his brother's eyes and saw that he wasn't kidding.

"You're sure?"

"Positive. You can do it, Zack."

"Okay." He took a deep breath. "I can do it."

Cody grinned at his brother. "You have a little time to get used to the idea, Zack. We aren't doing it here since it will probably take a while and we need to make ourselves scarce. We'll go inside, pack up what we can, and then get out of Dodge. You get to sew me up later."

"Oh, that's good news," Zack said sarcastically. "Let's go." He threw Cody a towel and they went inside. Cody wrapped his leg up in another make-shift bandage and carefully pulled a new pair of shorts up.

"Good thing I grabbed so many clothes," he said to himself while he slid his shirt on, "since we're going through them like we do water." He tied his shoes and joined Zack in the kitchen.

"How much of this should we take, Cody?" his brother asked as he rooted through the box of food.

"Not too much, I'd say. We're going to be weighed down enough with the guns when we leave here." Zack's eyes opened wide.

"Shit! I'd forgotten about them!" The box of assorted foodstuffs was instantly irrelevant and forgotten as Zack all but ran to the bedroom. Cody heard him yell "it's locked," before he could even start down the hall.

"He had the keys and opened it before he knocked me out. Look around," Cody called back as he shuffled after Zack.

"I don't see any keys, Cody. You're sure he had them?"

"I picked them up so yes, I'm sure. Maybe he put them back in his pocket after he hit me."

"Oh come on. I think it's your turn to check a dead body this time."

Cody didn't argue with him. If there were actually turns to be taken, it _was _technicallyhis but he would have done it even if it wasn't. He didn't want Zack coming into contact with the man's corpse again in case it might trigger another outbreak of raw fury. "I'll get them," he said as calmly as he could. He looked at the body for a few seconds and was surprised to find out that it didn't disturb him as much as he figured it should. Was he already becoming accustomed to this sort of thing? Zack seemed to have already moved past the previous hour so maybe he was as well.

"Good grief," Cody whispered after he managed to roll the body over. Everything from the waist up was simply meat with holes in it. Hardly any shape, barely any form, just raw, shredded flesh. He patted the pockets of the man's jeans and found the lump he was looking for. Fighting down his squeamish stomach, Cody pulled the ring out and quickly stood back up. After a detour to the bathroom to wash both the keys and himself clean, he delivered the keys to his brother.

Zack stood in amazement before the open gun locker, his jaw nearly dragging on the carpet. "Holy crap that's a bunch of guns. I won't even lie, Cody, I have the weirdest boner right now," he laughed as he pulled a shotgun from its spot. "This one's a Benelli. They are kick-ass. That rifle there is a..." Zack began rattling off names and sizes and other things and Cody was quickly lost in firearms gibberish as Zack piled the guns on the bed.

"How do you know so much about guns, Zack? It's not like you've ever held one before this week."

"My Google-fu is strong, Cody. You should see my search history sometime."

"No, I don't think I want to do that," Cody said with a smirk.

"That's probably a good call," Zack agreed.

"How many of them are we going to take? 'All of them' is the wrong answer, by the way."

"A shotgun for each of us for sure. I wouldn't mind having a spare, either. That rifle for sure, too. We can hunt with it and get some real meat. A couple of pistols," Zack continued on, slowly whittling down their _take _pile to a manageable number.

_That's better, right? Something actually happened this time around. This was the second scene I came up with when I started planning this story out down in the Caribbean over New Year's (Shotgun Momma Carey's first scene was the first). This chapter was mostly written to Nine Inch Nail's _The Downward Spiral _album with an occasional break for some Sick Puppies. I think that's it for now. I need to go shoot some mouthy kids in the face on COD before I go to bed. Thanks for reading._


	9. Chapter 9

Carey was kneeling before a seventh floor window scanning the approaches to the Tipton with a pair of high powered binoculars and nothing she saw did much to improve her mood. "Why don't you all go and do whatever zombies do somewhere else already?" she said to herself. If she had to name an epicenter for the zombies in Boston, it seemed to be the hotel and the surrounding ten or so blocks. "Shit." Carey pulled the binoculars away from her face.

In her heart of hearts, Carey already knew that, one way or the other, she wouldn't be finding her boys in the hotel. The rational part of her knew that next to nothing could survive in this city for almost two weeks. As resourceful as Zack and Cody were, they weren't survivalists. The irrational part of her, the part that usually yelled the loudest, refused to give up hope. She _had _to know. She had to see with her own eyes that they boys weren't in there waiting for her or she would never forgive herself.

"Gotta make a move soon, Carey Marie," she said quietly. "Food won't last much longer." She was right. It had taken her almost two days of skulking through Boston to reach the hotel and the better part of a third reconnoitering the area and she hadn't found much to replenish her dwindling supplies. Carey was two blocks away and the hotel might as well have been on the surface of the moon with all the zombies between her and the building.

"Sure could use one of those tanks right now," she mumbled as she picked the binoculars back up, thinking about the Abrams back in Central Park. Carey sighed aloud and was a little surprised when she heard her echo.

That was one of the most disconcerting parts of all this, she'd decided. Zombies aside, a city that once fed and sheltered millions becoming almost completely silent was a mindtrip and a half. All she heard was the low rumble of thousands of zombies moaning and shuffling along. No birds, no dogs, no horns, no stray radio coming from an open window, no rap music blaring from a car loaded with idiots (though, if she was being honest, she would not have minded if someone set a plague of zombies loose on the hip-hop community years ago), no voices yelling "move it, asshole" in that distinctly Bostonian accent, no police sirens, no four a.m. garbage trucks...

"Wait a second." Carey got to her feet, wincing at the momentary pins-and-needles feeling, and skulked out of the office and to the other side of the building. She found a window looking out on her previous path and trained the binoculars on the street. "Where is it?" she said as an idea began to come together in her mind. Somewhere back there, a handful of blocks before she'd reached her current hideout, she'd passed a garbage truck. "I know you're there, you big piece of crap. Where are you? Aha, there you are," she said as she spotted it. It was ten blocks away, parked in front of a Starbucks if she remembered correctly. It wasn't a sixty ton tank but it would do the job. Assuming it would start. Assuming the keys were in it. Assuming she could-

"Enough. It's as good an idea as any right now. I sure can't just waltz across the street and into the hotel." Carey returned to the first room and gathered up her meager gear. She stealthily made her way down the stairs and crouched beside the lobby door. Carey checked her gun and found it fully loaded. She took a deep breath and gently pushed the door open. She edged her way out and began round two of the Boston Crawl.

She arrived at the garbage truck half an hour later and completely out of breath. She ducked behind a wrecked car and gathered herself, trying to will any ideas of failure from her mind. _The doors will be unlocked, the keys will be in the ignition, and it will start right up _she said over and over again. Her mantra firmly in her head, she crept to the passenger door and pulled up on the handle. It moved and the door began to slowly swing open. "One for one so far," she whispered as she stuck her head inside.

Carey vomited from the smell. She looked up and over the seat and saw the remains of what had once been a man slumped over the seat. His body had bloated from decomposition and stretched his clothes like a sausage casing. She wiped her face and pulled herself up and into the truck, forcing herself to breath through her mouth as she pulled the door closed. He wasn't dressed in a uniform and Carey's heart began to sink. If he had died in here, it couldn't be because he was too stupid to start the truck up. He died in here because he wasn't the driver and he found a place to escape the zombies. "Shit." _How long had he lasted in here before he died?_ she wondered.

Carey was just about to admit defeat and leave the man to his grave when she had an idea. She almost hoped she was wrong, that the man didn't die with salvation mere inches above his head. Carey pulled the driver's side visor down but no keys fell out. "Last chance," she whispered as she pulled the passenger's visor. A mass of keys fell into her lap and she was conflicted.

"Oh, man," she said as she turned to the corpse. "Buddy, I am so sorry. So, so sorry." She sat back against the seat for a moment as she tried to play out the last days of the anonymous man's life. Scared out of his mind, probably in hysterics as he ran down the street. He found the truck and pulled himself inside and hoped to wait out the zombies. Wait for help to arrive. Might have gone mad as the horde pressed itself against the truck. Probably ducked low to stay out of sight. Likely died of dehydration instead of going out there. "So sorry," she repeated.

She steeled herself for what she was about to do. Carey reached over the man and opened his door. She returned to her side of the truck, still gagging slightly, and said a few silent words before placing her back against the door and pushing the body with her legs. She got him to the edge of the seat at her full stretch. Carey was afraid he wasn't going to go out and she'd have to push him with her hands but gravity thankfully took over and he toppled over and onto the concrete with a sound like nothing other than an overripe watermelon. "Gallagher," Carey said as she scooted over into the driver's seat and closed the door. She didn't look down.

Keys in hand, Carey began sticking them into the slot until she found the right one. "And the right one better be here," she said as she went through them. One finally fit and Carey took a breath as she turned it and hoped. The engine roared to life and she allowed herself a small cheer. She settled into a comfortable position and fastened her seat belt as she became the focus of every zombie's attention.

They heard the sound of the engine, that much was certain. The zombie closest to her, a shambling wreck wearing red-splattered coveralls and only half a face, did a graceless undead pirouette and started moving in her direction. Carey scanned the instrument panel. "How do I move the dumpster-lifter-thing?" she swore under her breath until she found the switch. The large metal bar lowered, leaving it in front of the truck with the steel arms pointing forward. He, or maybe she, Carey couldn't really tell, was a dozen yards from her when she slammed the gear shift into drive and stepped on the gas. Three seconds later the thing was run under the truck like a rogue plastic bag.

The truck continued accelerated despite hitting zombies in twos and threes as she drove. By the time she'd made it through the fourth block, she'd gotten the metal beast over thirty and was nearing forty as the Tipton came into view. And a problem suddenly rose to the top of her mind. _How the hell was she going to stop this thing? _She focused on the front of the building and grinned. "Oh Zack and Cody would love this!" Carey said as she plowed through uncountable numbers of the lurching dead, feeling only slight bumps as they either bounced off or were driven over or, in a few cases, run through. Scenes from the old _Dukes of Hazzard _show she grew up with played in her mind's eye, updated to show Bo and Luke Duke (played by Johnny Depp and George Clooney, respectively) jumping a garbage truck instead of the General Lee, over Roscoe P. Coltrane's squad car.

The steps to the lobby were growing huge in front of her and Carey gripped the wheel tightly and wondered for the first time if her idea was so grand after all. She hit the bottom step and the garbage truck bounced and the wheel was nearly jerked out of her hands. Things seemed to run at quarter-speed as the truck caught air and sailed up and over the remaining steps. Carey saw a zombie staring at her out of the corner of her eye and noticed the smallest details of his burned shoulder before everything was thrown back to full speed as she crashed through the doors and a few feet of the bricks above them and careened through the lobby.

Thankfully for Carey, the majority of her forward momentum had been expended as she broke through the stonework or she would have ended her drive by burying the truck under the remains of one of the massive weight-bearing walls. She slammed on the brakes and came to a halt a few feet away from the reception desk. The top few inches of the windshield was spidered and there were a handful of spots on the roof where the metal had been peeled away by the impact. All things considered, she thought she came through the controlled crash rather well. Carey shook her head and retrieved the shotgun from the floor of the truck. She racked it and pushed her door open, knocking a zombie off its feet and to the floor.

Fighting her way to the stairwell, the shotgun's loud cry reverberated off the walls as she cleared a path. Carey felt one coming up behind her and she spun around and slammed the butt of the gun into its face. "Gross," she said to herself as she fed more shells into the receiver on a dead run. A double tap put down a zombie by the door and she launched herself up the steps. Carey realized how out of shape she was as she reached the twelfth floor. "Getting...old...sucks," she panted as she paused and leaned against the wall to catch her breath. A minute of rest and a quick sip of water later, she was on the move again.

When she arrived on their floor, the first thing Carey did was complete a circuit through the halls and put down any zombies she found. Confident that her back was clear for the time being, she returned to their door and put a hand on the knob. A whirlwind of emotions flew through her as she turned it. She wanted them to be in there waiting for her, she wanted them to have gotten the hell out of the suite, she wanted to step through and everything would be normal again. She quashed them all down and pushed the door open and stepped into the empty suite.

"Well, that's good. I think," she said after she did a quick look-through. Carey went to her room and dug a fresh set of clothes out. She was more than a little disgusted when she nearly had to cut her jeans off. They were so caked with gore and grime that they'd almost adhered to her. She wanted a shower more than just about anything but that wasn't happening so she simply redressed in another pair of jeans and a comfortable shirt. "Travelin' clothes," she said to no one.

Carey stuffed another change of clothes in a small overnight bag and sat on her bed. The twins weren't here. She'd fought her way back into the city to find the suite empty. Where did she go now? Was there a point to go anywhere now? Her boys could be positively _anywhere _out there. Now that the urge to get back to the hotel and see for herself was sated, she felt adrift. Carey frowned as she stood up. No! She hadn't given up before and she wasn't going to give up now.

"I don't know where I'm going but I'm sure the hell not staying in Boston," Carey exclaimed as she snatched the bag from the bed and slipped it over her shoulder before gathering the rest of her gear. "Maybe it's time to go find a nice island in the Caribbean and see if any cabana boys made it." She left the bedroom and stopped by the couch and looked around the suite, trying to burn as many details of the place she'd spent the last few years as she could to memory. Each discoloration on the wallpaper and spot on the carpet brought thoughts to the surface of her brain; some happy, others sad.

Carey was looking at the kitchen when she saw the dry-erase board hanging crooked on the refrigerator. She cocked an eye at it and tried to make out the scribble from the couch but couldn't. She all but leaped to it, her heart suddenly hammering in her chest as she set the shotgun on the counter and pulled the board from the door.

_Mom, we're heading to Aunt Jolene's farm. Hope to see you there. Love you so much, Zack and Cody, _it read. A warm smile slid across her face as she read it again and again. "Brilliant," she muttered. "The farm's in the absolute center of cow turd and corn country. Genius, Cody, pure genius."

Her purpose suddenly renewed, Carey gave the board one last look and set it back in its proper space just below the boys' most recent report cards. The irony of repeatedly telling Zack that_ yes, algebra is important_ made her smile. "Sorry, honey. I lied." She picked the gun back up and started for the door. She was already turning over the routes in her head, trying to pick out the ways that would take her away from the major cities without adding too much extra distance to her trip. "I need to find a map," she declared after running a dozen scenarios through her head. Carey shut their door and started back down the hallway to the stairwell.

Going down twenty three flights was infinitely easier than going up the same number. She reached the bottom and peeked through the glass panel. The lobby was just as full as she left it, she noticed, but the zombies seemed to be staying more or less away from the garbage truck. Carey was just beginning to puzzle over this when she realized that she'd left it running. She started to chide herself when she laughed out loud. "Yeah, because nine out of ten cars stolen in Boston are stolen by zombies. Right, Carey, right."

She opened the door and laid a path of blood and zombie pieces to the truck. As she climbed up and into the cab, she absently reflected on how detached she was about what she'd just done. Before the world had gone to hell she would get a little squeamish whenever there was a drop of blood on a television show. She'd just spilled enough on the lobby's floor to put the old Carey into a catatonic state but the new Carey just reloaded the gun and kept going. She shook her head and filed the thought away for when she had more time to dwell on it.

Once again strapped in, Carey popped the truck into gear and stepped on the gas. She speared one of the overstuffed couches with the lift's arms and was thinking about how to shake it off when she saw what a great battering ram it made. She aimed for the great hole she'd made earlier and gunned it, not able to hold in a gleeful whoop when the truck became air-born on the steps. She crashed back to the ground and broke the couch into many ugly floral pieces. Most fell away from the bars but one stubbornly held on. Carey fixed this problem by hitting the _dump _switch. The bars raised and the eyesore remnant lifted out of sight.

She stayed off the main roads as much as she could and off the expressways completely as she made her way out of Boston. She'd made the mistake of trying to weave her way through the masses of cars left abandoned on the highway on her trip to the city and wasn't going to make it again. Not much of her trek into Boston could have been considered a success, she figured. Boston's approaches were almost as big a disaster as trying to leave New Jersey.

"Wasn't that one hell of a mess?" She thought aloud as she continued west. It had been. The shit had hit the fan from almost the instant she'd stepped off the ramp from the George Washington and back onto terra firma. If she didn't know better, she'd have sworn that someone had firebombed the Jersey side of the bridge and turned it into a labyrinth of zombies. She had lost count of the times she'd nearly been infected by the time she'd cleared the city and made it into comparatively open country a few miles away.

She'd spent that night in an apartment building overlooking the river and was awoken by gunshots in the early morning. Carey stole to the window and looked out to see...what was she seeing? Gangs? "Are you kidding me?" she'd whispered as she looked on. Within a minute she was sure. Survivors were down there shooting at each other instead of zombies. "What the hell is wrong with people?"  
Having no answer other than sheer stupidity and the inability to accept that turf wars were so last month, she tried to go back to sleep but found it elusive. With a sigh, Carey hauled herself out of bed and dressed for the day. She crept out of the building after a quick breakfast and headed a dozen blocks north before turning back towards the river, wanting to put as much distance between herself and the gangs as she could.

Carey had appropriated a motorcycle shortly before she crossed into Connecticut. She was eating lunch in a community park, the bike parked a short distance away and her helmet laying on the picnic table beside her, when a man rushed her at her from behind a set of rest rooms. He knocked her off the table and onto the dirt before she knew what hit her.

"No women in a while," he said as he crawled on top and pawed at her shirt. "Long while."

"You son of a bitch! Get the hell off me," Carey had screamed as she pounded on his chest and shoulders, forgetting about the fact that noise brought zombies in her struggles.

"Nope, nope. Not until we have sexy time," the man said with a sick grin. He'd popped the top button on her shirt and was working for the rest when she grabbed the back of his head and pulled down with all of her might while raising her own head. Her forehead smashed into his nose with a crunch and he instantly rolled away. "You bitch!"

"You want more?" Carey screamed back, her rage exploding as the suddenness of the attack wore off. Adrenaline flooded into her system and her hands unconsciously balled into fists.

"Fuck you!" he yelled and charged at her. Blood streamed from his ruined nose but he paid it no mind. He launched himself at her and she avoided the tackle and clipped him as he ran past. He sprawled face-first into the ground but was back up almost immediately. "Rape!" he yelled through a dirty face and Carey couldn't help but be mildly amused as she slowly backed up to the picnic table and the shotgun that was resting against one of the benches.

He had paused once he regained his feet and seemed to be studying her. Carey took the opportunity to do the same. He was obviously crazy. Most likely came completely unhinged after everything fell apart. She'd seen it happen more than a few times back in New York. There, the poor souls were medicated. Things were going to get ugly here. He was wearing hospital scrubs and one boot and one..was that a house slipper? She thought it was. He was also wraith thin, she noticed just as she started speaking.

"You have two choices, pal," she told him as she picked up the shotgun. One, you go your way and I go mine and we both forget about this ever happening. Two, you come after me again and I'll put you down." That was definitely the New Carey talking, she decided as she brushed some dry grass from her hair. The man took two steps toward her and stopped. He was testing her. He cocked his head to the side and looked at her like an owl with his eyes focused on the barrel of the gun.

Carey was suddenly aware of how much noise they'd made in the past thirty seconds and was itching to get out of here before the whole town fell in around them. No time for games. "Buddy, you take one more step and we're going to recreate a scene from the movie _Pulp Fiction_. Ever heard of it?" He looked like he was mulling her question over for a few seconds but only scoffed. "Not a Tarantino fan? Philistine."

The crazy man yelled out some indecipherable word before rushing at her again. She lowered the shotgun a few inches and shot him in the groin. The man fell in a heap a few feet away from her with his hands clutching at what remained. The fight had drained out of him and all that was left was moans and whimpers.

She looked around and saw the first of what would undoubtedly be at least dozens of zombies heading her way. Carey turned her gaze to the man laying on the ground nearby and was struck by indecision. Part of her wanted to make him suffer for what he had tried to do. She wanted him to be eaten by zombies. A deep breath later and she really couldn't do it even if she wanted to. No one deserved that. She sighed and put two rounds in the man's back. "I just killed a man," she said to the approaching horde. Carey loaded two more shells into the gun and put the helmet back on her head, fastening the chin strap as she got to the motorcycle. She kicked it to life and gingerly took off.

The garbage truck had died about a mile back but Carey wasn't that sad about it. It handled like a cinder block and the air conditioning barely worked but it got her out of the city and that was the important part. She struck out on foot into the afternoon sun with the shotgun leaning on a shoulder.

"A beer would be nice right about now," she said, wiping the sweat from her forehead. "A margarita would be better. A Washington apple would be even better. However, since I haven't seen a bar in the last few miles, I guess this water will have to do." She pulled a bottle from her pack and drained almost half of it in one gulp.

Carey walked for another two miles before calling it a day. It wasn't just hot, it was brutal. She picked a house at random and unceremoniously let herself in. She hadn't seen anywhere near as many deadheads (her name for them) since she got out of the city proper. Was it something about the city that called the zombies back to it after they rose or reanimated or whatever they did? She wasn't sure and it wasn't important.

Carey was poking around in the kitchen for supplies when she saw a key rack near the back door. Closer inspection showed a Dodge key hanging from a fob and she glanced out the window and into the driveway. Sure enough, there was a Dakota pick-up sitting out back. "In a perfect world there'll be a full tank of gas," she said as she tossed and caught the keys. She pulled the curtain back and looked up at the sky and saw that she had a few good hours of daylight left. Now that she wasn't going to have to walk she didn't suddenly didn't feel so tired.

"Let's see if we can get Kansas a little closer before we turn in," she said as she opened the back door and stepped quickly to the truck.

_Sorry for the delay but the NCAA tournament derailed this story many times. Obviously it hasn't gone the way I wanted _At All_ but then again it hasn't since 1986. (That was one hell of a party!) Oh well. Gotta say I'm pulling for UCONN now though. Not because I'm a BigEast homer but because I nearly went to school there back in the day. Storrs was nice but I decided it was just too far away and stayed home instead. Also, if UK wins my entire family will be insufferable for at least two months. Stupid rednecks._

_Anyway, I felt I needed a little break from the twins and wanted to tell a little more of Carey's story. Zack and Cody will be back in the next chapter though so don't worry. I guess that's all for now. Go Huskies._


	10. Chapter 10

It had been an interesting afternoon after the twins had left the old couple's house. Cody's bandage had leaked through and he was becoming lightheaded and irritable as they searched for the proper supplies to patch him up. He was ready to find an old fashioned sewing needle and some thread and just get it over with when Zack saw the veterinary clinic ahead. It was hardly the place he'd figured on getting stitched up but beggars couldn't be choosers.

"This is going to hurt, isn't it, Cody?" Zack asked as he was busy scrubbing his hands in a sink.

"Yeah. Probably a lot."

"I can't do it."

"Yes you can, Zack. You have to. I can't do it to myself or I would."

"Why not?"

"Because it'll hurt too much." Zack frowned before replying.

"I'll be hurting you, Cody."

"This will be a good hurt. Sort of, at least. A necessary hurt." Cody was sitting on a counter with his legs handing over the side. He'd tossed his bloody shorts aside for the time being and leaned back against a cabinet in just his shirt and underwear. He'd cleaned the area around the slash as well as he could and doused it liberally with betadine while Zack cleaned up and tried to talk his way out of performing surgery.

"Are you sure you want me to do this?" Zack asked as he shook his hands dry and walked over. "Last chance to back out is now. Remember that pillow I had to make for Home-Ec class?" Cody snorted.

"That monstrosity? No one will ever forget your dinosaur-kangaroo hybrid. It's probably still on display in the room."

"It was supposed to be an octopus."

"Of course it was. And to answer your question, yes, I want you to do this. I trust you."

Zack winced when Cody used the 'T' word. It used to be that Zack could be trusted to come home late for curfew or be trusted to forget his homework but now he was being trusted to sew up his brother's leg. He sighed.

"Sure you don't want to use any of that animal tranquilizer?" Zack's eyes drifted over to a shelf on the other side of the room.

"I do but I don't know how my body would metabolize it. I could guess wrong on the dose and it wouldn't matter how well you stitched me up. Let's just do it."

"Right." He picked up what his mind refused to call anything other than a _fishhook _and placed the tip against his brother's leg, a fraction of an inch below the cut. He felt Cody tense up. "Okay, on three." Cody nodded. Zack went on two. "Hurt?"

"Holy shit, yes."

"It must have. You don't swear very often."

"It honestly didn't hurt as bad as I thought it would but it still hurt a lot."

"Well that's good because we've got another forty or so to go."

"Hooray," Cody said, faking as much cheer as he could. He moved his hands back and held the edges of the cut together and waited for Zack to stick him again.

The first few stitches looked like they were done by an inexperienced fourteen year old but Zack was a quick learner and the last half looked nearly perfect. Cody daubed away the excess betadine and a few rogue droplets of blood and examined his brother's handiwork.

"Not bad, Zack. Not bad at all." Zack tried to hide it but he was beaming with Cody's compliment. Cody tactfully didn't comment on it.

"How long do you have to keep them in?"

"About a week, I guess. Maybe a little longer. After that, I just cut the threads and pull them out and I'm as good as new. Hopefully the betadine stain will go away by then, too." Cody gingerly hopped down from the counter and dug through his pack and pulled out his last pair of shorts.

"We're going to have to make another big-box store trip soon," Zack said as he saw the emptiness of Cody's bag. His, aside from the hidden porn and still-unopened beers, was almost equally low. He'd wanted to take a lot more from the house than they had but it had come down to carrying either their newly acquired guns or more food. Guns were hard to find but food was sitting on thousands of shelves so there really wasn't much of a choice.

"We might as well drink as much water as we can before we head out," Cody told him, pointing to the stockroom and the racks of giant water bottles. "I'm willing to bet that we aren't that far from being dehydrated."

"Probably not," Zack agreed. The twins spent the next ten minutes forcing as much water into their bodies as they could. By the time Zack was on his fourth glass, he felt like his molars were floating. He bounced up and down on his toes and could hear it slosh around in his belly. He manned up and finished the last of it and set the glass back down on the counter. "I don't care if I dry up like an old corn cob out there. I'm not drinking any more." Cody belched his agreement.

The twins packed up their supplies and headed out, wanting to find a more comfortable place to spend the night than a vet's office. Zack led the way and carried most of their weight. Cody protested that he could shoulder his fair share but Zack wouldn't give in.

"I'm sure you can, Cody, but you're not going to. I really don't want you walking around in the first place with your new stitches but a mile or three probably hurt."

"Zack, I appreciate you trying to look out for me and all but I'm not five. Yeah, my leg is sore but I can walk."

"I know you can but I'm older so I'm making the rules."

"When does that stop counting, anyway?" Cody laughed, giving up on the argument.

They walked another mile before Zack decided they'd gone far enough for the day. He'd stolen glances at Cody and saw his brother was trying his hardest to not let any pain show on his face and disguise his limp with a shuffling gait.

The sun was barely hanging in the sky when Zack decided that the next red house they saw would be where they spent the night. He was starting to wonder if this part of the country had gone through a red paint shortage when he stopped dead in his tracks and squinted into the setting sun.

"What is it?"

"I'm not sure, Cody. I think I saw something moving across the street way down the road." In all actuality, Zack didn't just think he saw something. He was all but positive he did.

"What was it? A dog?"

"Maybe. I just caught a glimpse of it just before it disappeared behind a building but it looked like a truck."

"Do you think it was-"

"I'm not sure, Cody. It might be them or it might not be. Either way, I think we've gone far enough for the night. We'll sleep in a red house tomorrow."

"Huh?"

"Don't worry about it."

Cody watched as Zack let them into the side door of the nearest house and was amazed at how far his brother's lock picking skills had come. He still didn't want to know where Zack had learned it in the first place but he was becoming very good at it after all their recent practice. They slipped in through the door and closed it silently behind them. After they secured and explored the house, Zack shooed Cody to the couch and had him get off his feet while he made a small meal.

"How's your leg?" Zack was sitting in a chair by the window with the blind angled a few degrees away from vertical. Cody's form was partially lit by a handful of candles that they'd found in a drawer.

"As much as I hate to admit it to you, a lot better now that I'm not walking on it," Cody told him.

"I won't tell you that I knew that," Zack grinned.

"Do you think whoever you saw is going to come back?" Cody changed the subject.

"Probably not. I've been looking at this dumb street for twenty minutes now and I haven't seen a thing." Zack got up and disappeared into one of the bedrooms came back with pillows and a bundle of blankets and sheets. He tossed a sheet to his brother and made a small bed for himself on the floor.

"You know what I want to do?" Zack asked as he shifted to a slightly more comfortable position. They'd undressed and had been laying down for a short while, exchanging small talk in the soft candle light.

"I have an idea but I'm laying right beside you so I hope I'm wrong," Cody said, yawning.

"Hardy har har," Zack retorted. His eyes still darted to his bag to assure himself that it was still fully zipped up and his secret stash still safe. "Who knew you were the funny twin? Anyway, no, that's not it. What I want is-" Zack stopped in mid-sentence and was on his feet with a pistol in his hand before Cody could do more than look surprised.

"What is it?" Cody mouthed. He didn't hear anything but had come to trust Zack's instincts.

"Engine," Zack said as he stole to the window and bent one of the blinds slightly. After a few seconds he motioned his brother over. Cody made his own peephole and the boys watched a truck slowly cruise down the road away from them. At the end of the street the truck paused and turned around and began heading back toward them.

"Is that the same one you saw before?"

"Yes," Zack answered. He felt trouble coming their way.

"Do you think they're looking for us?"

"If they're not it's one hell of a coincidence.

"Is it the traders?"

Zack took a second to ponder before he answered. "I doubt it, Cody. I guess it's possible but—shit! Get the candles!" Cody dashed across the small living room and blew the candles out. "Stupid, stupid, stupid," Zack said to himself. "Might as well have had a neon sign out there saying _here we are _with half a dozen arrows. Shit."

"Maybe they didn't see it."

Zack bit his tongue. Of course they saw it. Even a few candles would put out enough of a glow to be noticed through a window on an otherwise dark street. Careless, that's what that was. Careless. You don't put lights in a front room where any damn geek off the street could see it. Zack was glad the room was nearly pitch black so Cody couldn't see him shiver as he thought about the possibility of the men in the truck actually being the traders. He knew nothing about them except what they dealt in and it still made the skin on his balls crawl.

Zack turned back to the window and saw that the truck had closed to within one hundred feet of their building and was rolling slowly forward. It was close enough that he could make out the shadowy forms of people standing in the truck's bed. Close enough that he could make out the silhouette of a gun being raised against the moonlight. Fuck.

"Get down!" Zack yelped as he threw himself to the floor. Cody was slower to react so Zack pulled him down atop himself as the truck's engine roared. He dropped the gun when one of his brother's elbows landed in his belly.

"What? What is it?" Cody cried, the fear easily noticeable in his voice.

"Come on out, boys," a voice called from the truck. "If you come out right now we won't hurt you. Too much." Laughter split the air before the voice added, "Martha sends her love." More laughter.

"You have got to be kidding me," Zack mumbled quietly. "There is absolutely no fucking way...how did they know where to look?"

"She must have met up with them and told them which direction we went."

"You think? I should have killed that bitch when I had the chance." Zack rolled his brother off him and reached around to find the gun. Its cool metal felt very comfortable against his palm. "This is still bullshit. They must have been stalking us. Dammit." Zack pounded a fist against his thigh. "Lock and load, Cody, the shit is about to hit the fan." Both boys scrambled back to the couch and armed themselves. Zack stuck a second pistol in the back of his boxers and Cody picked up the Benelli just as the first snarl of automatic fire ripped through the upper parts of the front windows.

"Let's go, you fucks. Come get some," Zack said as he thumbed the safety off the pistol in his hand and belly-crawled to the window. His blood was running hot again and he was ready.

"Why are they doing this?" Cody asked and Zack was sure he heard the first signs of tears in his brother's voice. This was the absolute worst time for Cody to crack up. Zack swore softly to himself.

"Like I told you the other day, Cody, some people decide to do whatever they want once there isn't anyone to stop them. Those assholes outside are a perfect example of that." A longer burst tore through the glass and thudded into the wooden wall behind them.

"Why don't we try going out the back door?"

"Two reasons. One, no matter what you say, you can't move very fast right now. Two, the back door opens into a big field and then a parking lot. Nowhere to hide."

"I didn't notice the back yard when we let ourselves in," Cody admitted softly.

"That's okay. That's what I'm here for. Are you ready?"

"I guess," Cody said, bringing the shotgun to his shoulder.

"Just pretend they're zombies, Cody. And when they start shooting at me, jump in and fuck their shit up from that window over there." Zack looked at his brother and waited until he had an acknowledgment. Once it was in hand, Zack pulled his knees under himself and raised up, and pointing the gun at the truck and pulling the trigger as rapidly as he could.

Cody was expecting the usual _pop_-like sounds of the pistol they'd taken off the dead policeman but this gun, wow. Whatever it was, it sounded like a giant was hammering against a humungous sheet of aluminum with each shot. Zack had told him what it was called but he didn't remember. He could see the strain of keeping it steady on his brother's face with each muzzle flash.

A cry of confusion reached their ears, as if the shooters didn't expect anyone to shoot back. After a few seconds, the incoming fire increased as the attackers got over their initial surprise. Zack dove to his left and started shooting through another window and almost immediately heard some of his rounds find a home. He motioned for Cody to move up and screamed "tear the truck up!"

Cody did. He stood up and hugged the inside of the window, taking a deep breath and steeling himself before turning into the open space. He quickly saw that the truck wasn't more than thirty feet away and knew he really didn't even have to aim at that distance. Everyone's attention seemed to be on Zack so Cody just steadied the gun and squeezed the trigger over and over again as he walked the gun up and down the truck.

The gunfight lasted five seconds after Cody joined in. The boys watched the truck start to slowly drift away before nosing over the edge of the road and into a drainage ditch. One body fell out of the back as it came to a rest and another was hanging over the tailgate.

"Reload so you can cover me, Cody," Zack said as he dropped the empty pistol and pulled the one from behind his back. "I'm making sure this is over with. If anything moves, shoot it. And then shoot it again."

The only sound either boy heard was the wheeze of the dying engine. _Must have got a round or two under the hood, _Zack thought as he approached. He was taking measured steps, the gun flicking back and forth between anything his brain decided could be a threat. Zack circled the truck with Cody staying a handful of steps behind.

"Jeez, it looks like they went through a meat grinder," Zack finally said after he completed his inspection. "Told you that was an awesome gun, huh?"

"Yeah..." Cody replied, his voice flat as his eyes took in what he did.

Zack counted a total of five bodies. Well, four and a half since Cody seemed to have caught one of them square in the chest and completely removed the upper half of his body. The side of the truck that had faced Cody looked like the road signs he remembered seeing near his aunt's farm – dozens of bullet holes held together with a few ribbons of metal and flaked reflective paint. "Whoa," Zack said as he looked into the truck's bed and found the other half of a body. He looked away just as quickly.

"What is it?"

"Don't worry about it. It's not something you want to see." Cody looked like he was about to step forward and see for himself but Zack put up a hand. "Trust me on this one, Cody. Please."

Cody stopped in his tracks and, after a moment, agreed. "Do you think that's all of them?"

Zack honestly had no idea but he could see how the spectre of the mysterious 'traders' was hanging over his brother's head like a giant boulder. He might not know the answer but he knew what he was telling Cody. "Yeah, I think it is. Or was."

"We should probably go," Cody said after they stood around the truck for another minute. The engine had finally given up and the night was quiet again. The bottoms of Zack's boxers rippled in the breeze.

"Yeah we should," Zack parroted. "I don't think I could go to sleep now even if I had to."

"Me neither. And I just want to move on. I couldn't sleep here even if you paid me."

"Amen, brother, amen," Zack said.

The boys retreated inside and quickly packed their possessions. Zack tossed his clothes into his bag and was chatty while Cody dressed in silence. "Because it's still every bit of eighty degrees out there and because I can," Zack answered when Cody finally asked why he was going to walk in just his boxers and shoes. That got the smallest of grins from Cody and Zack considered it a success.

A few hours' walk put them a half dozen miles away from everything and in the mood to sleep. Zack was yawning profusely and Cody was limping badly. They called it a night and let themselves into a small house well off the main road, Zack taking care of their usual barricading while Cody searched the house for some pain reliever and came up with a bottle of aspirin. He quickly chased four of the pills with a swig of water and slipped the bottle in his pocket.

Zack had finished blocking the doors and had already pulled a big mattress out into the living room by the time Cody rejoined him. Cody hadn't said much during their midnight stroll but Zack attributed it to exhaustion and leg pain and didn't mention it. Now, as he watched his brother seem to sink into the chair instead of sit in it, he mentioned it.

"Are you okay, Cody?"

"Yeah, I'm good," Cody answered in a voice that sounded anything but.

"I'm serious. You can tell me anything, you know." Zack could tell that Cody was hurting but couldn't figure out what kind of pain it was.

"I'm good, Zack. Honest. I'm just tired and I hurt a little. Hopefully the aspirin will kick in soon and I'll just be tired."

"Okay then. I'm going to turn in. Don't stay up too late." Zack laid down on the mattress and pulled the single sheet over him and settled in.

"I won't." He did. Cody sat in the chair and let his mind go totally free for the first time since everything had fallen apart.

Zack awoke from a sound sleep with a bladder that was about to burst. He rolled off the mattress and padded his way to where he vaguely remembered the bathroom to be in the glow of a small flashlight. He did his business and returned to the living room, nearly jumping out of his skin when he saw Cody still sitting in the chair and slowly turning one of their pistols over and over in his hand.

"Hey Cody, what are you doing, buddy?" Zack's voice instantly went into wary mode when he saw the look on his brother's face.

"I've been thinking, Zack."

"About what?" Zack took a cautious step forward and was now at the edge of the mattress.

"The world we now live in and how much it sucks."

"Oh yeah?" Zack didn't know what to say but knew enough to know he needed to keep his brother talking.

"Want to know what I figured out?"

"Of course I do, Cody. Let's talk about it." Zack's inner alarms were flashing bright red. Cody wasn't right and Zack had to take care to tread softly.

"The world, as it is now, is terrible. It's an ugly caricature of its former self. A shadow. No, a parody. That's what it is."

"You're right, Codes," Zack said, unconsciously calling Cody by a name he hadn't used in years, "it's not very pretty out there."

"No, it's far from it, Zack. And that brings me to my next point."

Zack inwardly sighed. When Cody got like this, it was never good. He'd occasionally fall into these introspective moods and think himself into a deep depression. But this...this sounded different. Deeper. His voice sounded flat and distant, almost robotic. "Which is?"

"Some people, you, for instance, have already adjusted to these new times. Other people, like me, haven't. I won't even lie to you, Zack. I probably never will. The things we did tonight, the things _I _did tonight, horrified me. I can still see one of the men in the back of the truck disintegrate from the belt up when I shot him. I've seen it in my head a hundred times already. Over and over and over again.

"I shouldn't have had to do that, Zack. Ever. I should be enjoying my last summer before high school right now. But I'm not. I'm sitting in some stranger's house in a city we don't know the name of in a country filled with zombies with stitches in my leg that my brother had to give me because there aren't any doctors left. I'll never go to high school now. I was supposed to go to college and get a degree and a job and a wife and have my two and a half kids and a dog and a picket fence and a backyard barbeque and a car payment and now none of that is _ever _going to happen. Ever, Zack. Ever. My bright future is gone and now the best that I can hope for is a bleak future and a terrible undeath."

"Cody, yeah, all that might be gone but we're still alive. That's what matters."

"No, Zack, it's definitely not. All that's left is a half life. Nothing we planned for is possible anymore. Our old world is _gone._" Cody finally took a break from his monologue and took a sip from a bottle of water. He looked at Zack and Zack had never seen his brother look so sad. Cody sighed and set the bottle on the table.

"I don't know if I want to go on with the struggle, Zack. What's the point of trying to make it through today when things aren't going to get any better tomorrow?" What's the point? Why fight?"

"Because, Cody. Those are the cards we've been dealt."

"Then I think I'm going to fold, Zack. I don't want to play anymore." Cody looked at the black hole of the pistol's maw.

Neither boy spoke for a few long seconds. Cody studied the rough texture of the pistol's grip with his thumb while Zack stood there in shock. "You don't mean that," he finally managed to say.

"I do, Zack. I killed people tonight. Not zombies, but living, breathing people."

"They were trying to kill us, Cody!"

"I don't want to live in a world like this, Zack. I can't."

"This is what you wouldn't tell me the other morning, isn't it?"

"Mostly, yes. I hadn't given it as much thought then as I have now, but yeah. Basically."

"What about making it to the farm? What about waiting for Mom?"

Cody looked at him in a way that bordered on contempt. "Zack, think about it for a moment. Mom was in New York City. Millions of people lived there before the outbreak. Millions of zombies unlive there now. Do you honestly think she could have made her way out of there? Remember how the safe zone was overrun?"

"We made it out of Boston," Zack said defensively, sidestepping the question.

"Boston would just about fit in one of New York's boroughs, Zack."

"She didn't have to fight her way out of all five of them, just one."

"I can't do it," Cody said.

"You have to," Zack implored.

"Why?"

"Because if Mom didn't make it out, you're all I have left." Zack had made it through the conversation without so much as a hitch in his breath but the last sentence poured out with anguish. He looked up at Cody and saw that he'd gotten through. Zack rubbed a hand over his eyes and rubbed his tears on his leg.

"I'm only slowing you down."

"I don't care, Cody. We could stay right here in this house and I wouldn't care as long as you're here with me." Zack felt it was safe to walk to his brother's side and sit down now that Cody seemed to have stepped back from the edge. He put an arm around Cody's shoulders and pulled him into an embrace. "I mean it, Cody. One way or the other, I want you by my side until the very end. If we make it to the farm and find Mom, I want to find her with you. If we go down in a mob of zombies I want to go down with you by my side. Brothers until the end, right?"

Cody nodded and then realized his brother wouldn't be able to see it. Cody thumbed the gun's safety back on and put it in his brother's free hand. "Until the end." Zack squeezed him harder.

"That more like it."

"I'll try to change, Zack. I can't promise anything but I'll try."

"That's all I can ask."


	11. Chapter 11

Zack was more than halfway through the bottle of Mountain Dew he'd discovered when Cody finally woke up and joined him on the screened-in porch. He'd contemplated waking him up hours ago but decided against it. If Cody needed to sleep in, Zack was content to let him.

"So, um, about last night," Cody said as he sat down beside Zack.

"If you're okay today, I think we can forget about last night."

"Well. I...yeah, I'm okay. I guess everything finally caught up with me last night."

"It's okay, Cody. Seriously."

"One more thing and I promise I'll let it go." Zack nodded and he went on, "I just wanted to say thanks. So thanks."

"You're welcome, Cody. Want a little pick-me-up?" Zack offered the two-liter to his brother. "I wish they'd had the red kind, or even the Taco Bell kind, but the green will do."

"Caffeine is caffeine," Cody told him as he took a drink from the bottle. Zack snickered as he took it back. "What?"

"You didn't even wipe the lip off or check to see if I'd backwashed in it."

Cody sat up straight as an arrow in a fraction of a second. "You didn't, did you?"

"No, of course not. The old Cody would never drink after me. You have changed, you know. Maybe not in major ways, but in small ones."

"I thought we weren't talking about last night?" Cody replied, trying to keep a grin off his face while he took another hit from the bottle.

"Touche, Cody, touche. Now give me my Dew back."

It was slightly before eleven when the boys set out for the day. Zack kept the pace slow while they looked for a car that they could borrow until it ran out of gas. He'd seen how bad Cody had been limping the night before and wanted to keep that from happening again. As they walked, Zack wondered exactly why just about every last person seemed to take their keys with them when they abandoned their cars.

"This would be so much easier if they'd just leave them," Zack exclaimed as he thumped his fist on another car window. "I mean... look at that minivan over there with the Delaware plate on the back. Did they think they were going to walk home and let themselves in or something?"

"I don't know, Zack. Maybe they're trying to maintain the smallest hint of normalcy. You park your car, you take your keys. I guess even if there's no chance of ever coming back for it."

"I'd just leave the keys."

"I know you would. _Normal_ and _Zack_ aren't two words that I'd ever put together in the same sentence unless I was trying to-"

"Yeah, I get it." Cody grinned back at his brother. "The next one for sure."

"You've said that about the last seven cars we've come across.

"I'm a glass-half-full kind of guy, Cody." Zack's optimism was put to a serious test as they passed another two dozen cars and trucks cast aside and had no luck. He growled and smashed a rock through the window of the final car.

"Okay...," Cody said as they walked past it, "let's take a little break before you get mad or something. We need to figure out where we are before we drive off anyway so let's find a gas station and hope they have a map."

Zack agreed to this and they soon found themselves stepping through the glassless doors of a BP. Zack immediately made his way to the junk food while Cody searched the counter and the displays around it. He spun one, gritting his teeth as its squeak shattered the quiet, and instantly looked up and scanned the area outside the building. They hadn't seen more than a handful of zombies all morning but it didn't pay to be careless.

"Find one yet?" Zack asked as he walked with a mouthful of SlimJim. Cody noticed another dozen or so sticking out of one of his shorts' pockets.

"Just now," he replied as he picked one up. He began unfolding it and spread it out across the counter.

"So where are we?"

"Just outside of Scranton, Pennsylvania as far as I can tell." He gestured to the few remaining newspapers sitting in the window. "I honestly thought we'd be a bit further along but whatever."

"Can we go steal a car now?"

"Not yet, Zack. We should plan our route first."

"West."

"Yeah, thanks. I'd prefer something a little more concrete than that. If we plan ahead a bit, we can save ourselves a ton of trouble by avoiding or skirting the bigger cities. Unless you want to drive through the middle of downtown Zombieville."

"No no, you go ahead and plan it out." Zack swept an arm and cleared himself enough room to hop up and sit on the counter and watch Cody go over the map. "SlimJim?" Cody politely declined.

"Now if we hit 81 and take it south, we can hit 70 and take it west. That'll put us well south of Pittsburgh. Or, we could stay on 81 a little longer and then take 68 then 79 and finally get on 64 and go through West Virginia."

"I vote for the first one, Cody. I'm not in the mood to deal with a bunch of redneck zombies."

"I'm leaning toward the second one. Redneck zombies aside," Cody snorted slightly, "it's longer but there aren't as many people that way as there would be if we went by Pittsburgh and through Ohio. Less zombies that way."

"Redneck zombies it is," Zack agreed. "But if we hear any banjo music, we're not stopping."

"I'm pretty sure _Deliverance_ wasn't set in West Virginia, Zack."

"Whatever. Let's grab what we can from here and beat feet. This little town is starting to give me the creeps."

Cody silently agreed with his brother as they pulled the remaining bottles of Gatorade and water from the useless coolers. There hadn't been nearly as many zombies walking around as he'd expected to find in a city of this size. Where were they? Did most of the people manage to make it out before they were overrun? He didn't know and figured it was likely that he never would. He shrugged the question off and put a warm bottle of Pepsi into his bag.

They left the gas station with their new map and supplies and got back out on the main road. Almost immediately, Zack was back looking in every car they passed and having just as much luck as he did before. Cody was about to tell him that he didn't mind walking when Zack called out with success as he stood beside a Volkswagen.

"Um, Zack, that's a stick shift."

"I don't care. You know how they work, right?"

"In theory? Yes."

"Good enough. Get in." Cody started to protest but stopped himself. Truth be told, he wanted to do it just to know if he could. If Mom could drive one... They loaded their gear in the back seat, keeping a pistol apiece and the shotgun within easy reach, and buckled up.

"Okay, I can do this," Cody said as he got situated. "Step on the clutch, turn the key, put it in gear and go. Easy."

"Just do it, professor."

Cody soon discovered that it was anything but easy. He jerked and lurched the car forward a foot or two at a time before stalling it, but that was the extent of his abilities. How the hell did Mom make this look so easy?

"At this rate, we'll make to the end of the street by tomorrow," Zack snickered.

"I will put you in the trunk," Cody shot back as he took a deep breath and tried to calm his nerves. "I can do this. I can drive a stupid stick."

By the time Cody finally managed to put all the actions into effect, Zack was laughing so hard he was crying. Cody's face had turned a bright red and he'd cursed the car with words that Zack would never have guessed his brother knew and he'd beat his fists uselessly against the steering wheel so hard that Zack was surprised the airbag didn't deploy. But he got it to work.

"Are you done?" Cody asked as he ground gears searching for fourth.

"Cody, I'm sorry, but it was funny. You sounded just like me when I get mad at a video game."

"No I didn't." It was a weak argument and Cody knew it.

"Yeah, dude, you did." Zack wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. "I wish I could have that on video." He went into a terrible imitation of Cody berating the car. Cody eventually cracked a smile.

"Okay, so I did sound pretty stupid," he admitted.

"A little."

Cody had been driving for less than five minutes when they crested a hill a few miles from the Interstate. He happened to glance to his left and saw a farmhouse in the middle of a field surrounded by...an enormous herd of cows? No. Cody let the car roll to a stop as he looked.

"Oh my God, I think we just found all the missing zombies," he said softly. He turned the car off and pulled the brake handle. Zack whistled softly, grabbing the binoculars from the back seat. He leaned out and hoisted himself up so he was sitting on the door and trained them on the farmhouse.

"Yeah we did. There must be thousands of them down there. But why?"

"Because there's smoke coming from the chimney, Zack. There's people in there!"

"Oh what a terrible way to go out. Trapped like rats."

Cody got out of the car and took the binoculars when Zack offered them. "We've got to help them," he said after he scanned the scene.

"Cody..." Zack paused and pushed the hair back out of his eyes. "We can't." It hurt his heart to say it but it was true.

"We have guns, don't we?"

"We don't have that many bullets." Zack slid out of the car and walked around to Cody's side and put an arm around his shoulders. "I know, it sucks. No, it more than sucks. It's not right. But-"

"There's nothing we can do," Cody finished. "I know. I don't like it but I know." Cody hung his head for a few seconds. He put the binoculars in Zack's hand and climbed back in the car. "Come on, let's go." Zack took one last look through the binoculars and then began trying to convince himself that he didn't see someone on the roof waving at him just before he lowered them from his eyes.

They drove in an uncomfortable silence, each boy wrestling with what they'd just witnessed. Cody was running rescue scenarios through his mind, each more implausible than that last, and couldn't help but come to the same conclusion each time. Those people, whoever and however many were in that house, were dead. It was only a matter of time.

Zack's thoughts went down a different path. He knew they were dead men and women walking and he tried to get inside their heads. What were they thinking? How long could they hold out? What was it like to know you were going to die sooner rather than later? Would they put a bullet in their heads before the zombies got to them? He would. Zack shook his head sadly. He was in deep thought when Cody reached over and turned the radio on.

"I need something to distract me," he said when Zack gave him a questioning look. "I don't want to think about it anymore." Cody pushed the _scan _button and watched as the numbers rapidly climb as the radio searched for any hint of a signal. The FM band came up empty and he switched over to AM and had equal luck. "I didn't expect anything but I figured it couldn't hurt," he said as he turned the volume down.

"Maybe whoever left this car had some CDs or something. This whole no-music thing is one of the worst parts about all this. Aside from the whole zombie thing, of course," Zack added after Cody gave him a raised eyebrow. "Seriously though, I didn't think I'd miss the background noise as much as I do. Aha!" He pulled a small wallet from under the seat and looked at for a few seconds. "Let's see if we get lucky." Zack unzipped and opened the wallet and laughed.

"What'd you find?"

"Well, Cody, it seems that our car was owned by a twelve year old girl."

"Huh?"

Zack pointed to the first disc and showed it to his brother. "Justin Bieber." He then went through the rest of the wallet and named off a dozen other pop stars that Cody hadn't heard of. "Who ever told these Disney kids that they could sing, anyway? Ashley Tisdale couldn't carry a tune in a bucket." Zack zipped the wallet back up and unceremoniously pitched it out the window. "Oops."

"I guess we'll have to add music to our list of things to get the next time we stop, huh?"

"Definitely. From now on our cars will have to have both keys and a CD player."

"A full gas tank would be a bonus, too," Cody added. "We're going to have to find a new car in about an hour."

"Or we could siphon it from other cars. Maybe even from a gas station's tanks. I think we only need a hose."

Cody's eyes perked up. "Just a hose for another car. If we were going to take it from an underground tank, we'd need a pump. I'd tell you why but I'd lose you during the explanation."

"Probably so. That's on our list, too."

"Want to big-box it today?"

"We'll see. If we come across something that looks safe enough, we'll do it. If it smells the least bit sketchy we'll do it some other time." Cody nodded and continued driving.

The fuel light had come on about one minute before Cody came upon the mother of all traffic snarls. He veered to the left lane and tried to see what caused the blockage but could only see more cars and trucks. He grunted out of frustration.

"What's ahead of us?"

"No idea, Zack. Just lots and lots of cars. I think there's a sign up up there but I can't read it from here."

"Drive in the grass, then. That looks clear enough."

Cody did, downshifting and steering the car into the median and into a pair of tracks. As they rolled past the line of cars, Cody couldn't help but notice that many, if not most, of them had open doors. His mind wondered what could cause that and almost instantly answered. Zombies. Lots of them. Cody's gaze shifted to the tree line on both sides of the road.

"Pennsylvania National Guard checkpoint ahead. Stay in your vehicles. Do not change lanes. Use of deadly force has been authorized," Zack read as they neared the billboard-sized sign that had been erected in front of a massive concrete construction.

"That would explain the big tire tracks I've been driving in," Cody said. "They probably had Humvees and who knows what else here in the grass. Also explains why there aren't any cars in it."

"What were they doing?"

"Trying to quarantine the area would be my guess. I'd bet this car that there's a roadblock just like it somewhere further down the road."

"Think we can get around it?"

"Not unless this car has a gear called _fly._"

"Figures. Let's get as close as we can and then we're on foot again."

Cody sped up as they neared the roadblock. He didn't like being stuck in the middle of what had once been a zombie buffet one bit. He shivered and repositioned himself in the driver's seat. He stopped a few dozen feet from the concrete blocks and turned the car off and had to remind himself to leave the keys.

Zack had his bag already slung over his shoulder and tossed Cody the other. "Be alert, Cody. I'm getting one of your Star Wars' guy's _I've got a bad feeling_ _about_ _this_ vibes."

Cody looked up at the sky and saw heavy, dark clouds on the horizon. "A few weeks ago I'd say that you were just feeling the change in air pressure but I can't disregard it like that anymore. But it is going to rain soon."

The boys gathered up what they needed and headed for the wall. Cars were nosed up to the huge iron bars that made up the gate so they had to climb over them and then belly crawl under the bars. They dusted themselves off and started walking down the Interstate. A half mile in front of them was an off-ramp and they made for it, each boy checking the sky after every few yards.

They reached the edge of town and passed what had probably been improvised barricade of burned out cars pushed to the side of the road. Zack passed a pile of discarded gas cans and kicked one, sending cartwheels of gasoline spinning through the muggy air. The twins reached the first knot of buildings and stopped and stared.

"What the hell happened here?" Zack asked as they looked at the bodies sprawled everywhere. Cody's eyes were drawn to a body wearing jeans and the remains of a t-shirt hanging limply out of a second story window while Zack walked over to what could only be a National Guard soldier with a line of bullet holes stitched across his chest. "What the hell?"

They walked further into the city and saw more of the same. Body after body and hundreds of shell casings laying on the ground. A wrecked Humvee sat in front of a doughnut shop. An overturned school bus with a ten foot hole blown in it spanned a library's parking lot. "I'll say it again, what the hell happened here?"

"I don't know, Zack. I have a guess but that's about it."

"Let's hear it."

"Okay, here we go. The people sealed off their town and then the military came and they didn't like it and emotions eventually ran high and then they started shooting at each other."

"That's insane," Zack said as he looked around the devastated town.

"I know but it's the only thing that makes sense."

"Nothing about this makes any sense."

They saw fewer bodies in uniform as they penetrated deeper into the town but there was just as much destruction. Houses and cars were shot up and there were remnants of fires on every block. One row of stores seemed to have had their fronts blown off. Zack's attention was snared by something across the street.

"What the...?"

"Wow," was all Cody could say. A priest hung from the branch of a tree in front of a church. _God Is Dead _was spraypainted across the entryway in large, red letters while _Repent, fuckers! _was scrawled down the nearest side in black. As they approached, Zack could see there was a sign tied around the dead man's throat.

"Liar," Cody read aloud just before the body spun away from him in the wind. The first drops of rain began to fall as he turned back to face the boys.

"This town is insane," Zack said as he looked away from the hanged corpse.

"I think that's exactly what happened. I misjudged things earlier."

"Tell me while we find somewhere to ride this storm out," Zack told him as he grabbed Cody's shoulder and pulled him along.

"It looks like the town, for whatever reason, went insane and started rioting. The priest," Cody gestured back over his shoulder, "may have had something to do with it. Maybe not. Anyway, the Guard just happened to be a mile or so away blocking the highway and were sent to restore order. From what it looks like, they walked right into the middle of a madhouse."

"I guess that works. Not that it matters any since we're getting the hell out of this nutjob town as soon as it stops raining. I don't care if it's two in the morning. We are not sleeping here. Not a chance."

"That's fine with me," Cody agreed. "This town gives me the creeps."

They let themselves in the back door of a Mexican restaurant and bolted it shut just as the sky opened up. The glow from their flashlights showed a kitchen that fit right in with the rest of the town. The floors were covered in empty cans and broken jars and the shelves were nearly bare. Cody moved his light from the shelves to the walls and whistled.

"That looks like something out of _Left 4_ _Dead_," Zack said as he ran his fingers over a section of the writing on the walls. Some were short messages to missing friends and family, some were information, but most were just random nonsense. _They closed 81 take the back roads _dominated the center of the wall. _Fuck the Prez this is his fault_ one read, with another saying _bullshit it is you dumbfuck republican _just below it. There were at least a hundred but the pair that stood out in Zack's mind and made him laugh was _no big loss the food here blows anyway_ followed by _so does your girlfriend, bitch_.

"Who do you think wrote all those, Cody?" Zack asked after he'd finished reading.

"My guess would be the people who survived the riot did some of it before they left for wherever and the rest was done by people who came after and stayed for a bit."

"Do you see a marker or something?" Zack started looking around on the ground, toeing garbage out of his way. "There we go," he said as he snatched a small black cylinder from the tile.

"What are you going to write, Zack? Warnings of where we've been? Advice that other survivors might find helpful?"

"Nope," was all his brother said as he found a relatively clear piece of wall and began crafting his block letters.

"Zombies suck? Really?"

"What'd you expect? Shakespeare?" Cody could only shrug.

They partially enjoyed a dinner of stale nacho chips with canned beans and salsa. Cody slipped a few cans of each, as well as a can opener, into his bag once they were finished. Zack stepped into the restaurant's dining room and looked out through two of the remaining windows. A gunshot rang out over the driving rain and Zack instantly dove to the floor. A second followed it and Zack began crawling back into the kitchen.

"Was that-" Cody whispered when Zack sprawled around the corner.

"Yes. I don't know where it was but it was close."

"Do you think they saw you?"

"I really doubt it but it doesn't matter. We're leaving." Zack half-expected his brother to protest over leaving in the rain but he didn't.

"Let's go," was all he said as he shouldered his pack.

"I don't want to take the time to go back to the ramp so we're going to take the direct route and get the hell out of here as quick as we can. Sound good?" Cody nodded that it sounded just fine to him. "Good. Let's do it. Keep your light off unless you really need it." Zack stuck his flashlight in his pocket and checked his pistol. Satisfied, he led the way back to the rear door and unbolted it.

It was raining lions and timberwolves when they stepped out. Zack instantly wished for a hat to keep it out of his eyes as he watched the water bead and drip from the brim of Cody's hat. He ran a hand back through his hair and led the way, heading for where he knew the Interstate had to be.

More gunshots split the night and both boys heard the unmistakeable sound of a human's death scream. Zack looked back and saw Cody's eyes were wide. With fright? Zack wasn't sure. He motioned to an alley between two derelict buildings and they quickly but carefully advanced through it. The moans seemed to multiply as they approached the hill that separated them from the ribbon of asphalt and escape. Zack momentarily questioned the intelligence of his plan but shook it off. They were committed now.

The hill looked to be about one hundred feet of sloped ground, covered in trees and shrubs and other varieties of undergrowth and both twins' eyes were busy trying to find the easiest way up as they approached. Cody saw the zombie first and stumbled, falling on his face and sliding in the mud. He cried out and Zack wheeled around, gaze falling first on his brother and then on the first of the hoard that had seemingly materialized out of the gloom a scant twenty feet away.

"Ah shit," Zack muttered as he dashed to Cody's side. "Get up get up," he said, helping Cody up with one hand while still pointing the gun at the gomers with the other. Cody got to his feet and wiped a coating of mud from his face. "Go to the hill. I'll slow them down!" Zack yelled and gave his brother a shove. He watched just long enough to see Cody start making his way up the hill before turning his full attention to the zombies.

He knew he didn't have to kill them this time around so Zack aimed lower, shooting at legs and thighs and trusting the power of the gun to knock them down and tangle the feet of the zombies behind them. The gun made its own thunder and the zombies began to drop. His plan working, Zack backpedaled, firing off the rest of the clip, and then chased after Cody. The boys pulled themselves up the slippery slope and collapsed at the top, exhausted from their climb.

"That was too close," Cody finally said when he got his wind back.

"Tell me about it. We couldn't hear them until they were right on top of us." Zack rolled over and looked down the hill and saw the zombies milling around at its base. "Looks like they can't make it up the slope in the mud. That might be useful one day."

"I hope not but it might," Cody assented. He sat up and looked himself over and saw nary a bit of clean skin. The rain was washing it away but not quickly enough for his liking. "I think I'd give just about anything for a nice, warm bath right about now," he said as he skimmed a collection of leaves and mud from his arms and flicked them away.

"No joke," Zack replied as he got to his feet. He changed clips in the pistol and put it back into his pocket, taking time to slip the empty into his bag to reload later.

"Tomorrow we rest up and clean up," Cody said as he stood.

"And see if we can't stock up, too."


	12. Chapter 12

The rain came and went while the twins walked southward on I-81. It rained sideways at times before tapering off into a light drizzle before dumping on them again. By the time their tired legs finally led them to an exit, Zack was bordering on both mental and physical exhaustion. Too much had happened in the last twenty-odd hours and he was past the point where he could process any of it. Long past it. He trudged down the ramp and stared at a sign reading _Hotel .4 miles on right _and wondered why it was written in Hungarian. He wanted to ask Cody if he could translate it but it was too much of an effort.

Cody slipped his arm over his brother's shoulders and steered him the rest of the way. He looked over and swore that Zack was walking with his eyes closed and his legs on autopilot. He moved his arm from Zack's shoulders to his waist and let himself be leaned on. "C'mon, Zack, we're almost there," he said almost as much to himself as to Zack as he steered them into the hotel's parking lot. He was feeling it, too, but it was his turn to step up. Zack had done it for him more than enough in the past few weeks and it was his turn to repay the favor.

Walking the both of them up both parts of a set of switch-back steps while carrying their bags would have been impossible so Cody left them at the bottom of the stairs before picking Zack up. His eyes widened as he realized how much weight his brother had lost. "He's like a pre-zombie me," Cody mumbled as he started climbing. His legs were burning by the time he reached the last step and began checking rooms.

"Here we go." Cody pushed open the first unlocked door he found and sat his brother down at the foot of the bed. He listened intently for a moment, eyes flashing back to the open doorway and right hand dropping to the pistol in his pocket. "Just the rain, I think," he said as he began to help Zack out of his soaked clothes. Cody laid Zack down and pulled the blankets to his chin and stood up.

Cody pulled the door shut behind him, taking care to remember the _227 _on the door, as he went to retrieve their belongings. He stopped at the top of the stairs and cocked his head to the side and listened again. He was all but certain he heard something close by but couldn't put a name to the low sound over the rain. Cody frowned and crept down the steps and slipped their bags over his shoulder. His skin began to crawl and he hurried back to their temporary room.

He'd gotten as far as taking off his shirt and shoes when the unknown sound began to gnaw at the back of his mind. What was it? Where was whatever was making it? Could it be a person? A lone zombie? He glanced over at his sleeping, no, comatose was more like it, brother and then to the door. He knew what he was doing wasn't the smartest thing he could do but he also knew that he had to do it. Zack wouldn't be hesitant about it. "Crap," he said as he picked the pistol up and cracked the door two inches.

All he heard was rain when he stepped into the hallway. It was still pounding on the roof and eaves and he could hear a creek rushing against its banks somewhere not too far away. Cody slipped out of the room and pressed himself against the wall as he slowly moved down the hall. He peered out from the shadows into the darkness but he didn't see anything. Cody crouched a little lower, gun ready, as he stepped around the corner. "Oh come on," he whispered as he heard his pulse throbbing in his ears. "Stop being so jumpy, Cody." He forced himself to take a deep breath to steady his nerves.

The hotel was laid out like a giant square, the doors on the outside walls while windows on the inside wall overlooked the center courtyard and pool. Cody's circuit around the building took him no more than three minutes. He heard the sound a handful of times but was no closer to figuring out what he'd heard than he was when he started. Cody briefly considered going down to the ground level to check further but threw that idea away. He wasn't going that far away from his brother while he was all but unconscious. Not a chance.

"It was irregular, I know that much," Cody said as he kicked off his wet shorts and underwear and sat on the side of the bed. "Like the wind occasionally blustering against something. But there isn't much wind tonight." Cody sighed as he pulled the bandage from his thigh and inspected the cut and stitches. A finger run over them quickly revealed that they were tender. A closer look under the flashlight would reveal that they were probably red, too, he figured. He felt around for it before realizing it was sitting on the table by the door. "Great. Might be getting infected. That's awesome."

Cody slid under the sheets and pulled them up and willed himself to sleep. He envied Zack's ability to drop off at a moment's notice while he tossed and turned over the next ten minutes. The rain slackened momentarily and he heard the sound again and his eyes popped wide open. That was a zombie sound. It had to be. He heard it again a few seconds later and knew he was right. It was a zombie, that was certain, but this sounded different. He thought back, trying to replay the times he'd heard it earlier in his mind, comparing it to the sounds he'd heard the zombies make over the past weeks. His eyes darted to the curtains on the wall behind him and he knew where it was. He had a pretty good idea what the sound was and it was ridiculous. Preposterous. "No way. Absolutely no way."

Cody pulled aside the curtains and was squinting into the dim light in less than a second and saw almost exactly what he was expecting. Half in and half out of the baby pool was a zombie, laying on its belly with something large and obviously heavy pinning its legs in the shallow water. Cody couldn't tell if it was looking at him but he was certain it knew he was there. It could sense him. Smell him. Or something. The short hairs on the nape of his neck and arms stood up. It turned its face to the sky and moaned or brayed or whatever it was doing again and Cody felt, or at least imagined he felt, the low bass rumble of the call shake the pane of glass ever so slightly.

It was simply not possible for the zombie to be calling out to its kind but it _was. _Cody knew it was. "It's like that raptor from that Jurassic Park movie. It's calling for _help._" Or telling all his zombie friends that we're here, his mind added. Cody shivered at the thought while cursing himself for not checking the courtyard earlier. "Shit," he said, drawing the word out into a three-second growl.

He looked between the window and his brother a few times while he made up his mind. It all boiled down to the fact that Zack needed to sleep so that meant the zombie needed to die. It amazed him in a distant way how easily he decided to put the zombie down. Before everything went to pieces, he wouldn't have even considered picking up a gun, loaded or not. Cody looked around the room for his clothes but they had disappeared from view in the dark room. He started heading for their bags but stopped. Taking care of the zombie had to come before any modesty. "Didn't think I'd ever be doing this, either," Cody said softly as he walked out the door naked, gun in one hand and flashlight in the other.

Cody paused at the switchback and listened for a few seconds before finishing his descent. He walked along the wall again, edging slowly to one of the corridors that led to the courtyard. He poked his head around the corner and saw the same scene he saw from the window. As he made his way to the zombie, it turned its head in Cody's direction and he swore he could hear the creak of the tendons in its neck. He flipped the light on and the zombie looked ten times worse than it did in the dark.

The rain pounded against his body as he approached and he absently wished he'd thought to at least grab his hat before he came out. Cody pushed his soaked hair back out of his eyes and looked down at the thing before him. It reached feebly for him but he stood well out of reach as he shone the light on it and studied the creature. As much as he knew he should shoot the thing and be done with it, he couldn't. The zombie was as fascinating to him as it was revolting. This was the first time he'd had the chance to actually look at one while not running for his life.

Cody's gaze panned down its body and saw its feet sticking out from under a hunk of thick metal. He had no idea how the zombie had come to be pinned under it and rightly didn't care. He squatted down at its side and nearly fell backwards into the pool when its toes moved. "What? Your spine has to be crushed. How are you moving your feet?" he asked the thing as it writhed and tried to reach for him with a mangled arm. "And why haven't you rotted yet?" Cody could see mold growing in spots on the creature's body but it didn't seem to be affecting it in any way. He chewed on his lower lip as he studied it. Its pupils never changed when he put the light in its eyes, he noted.

Cody was debating the merits of trying to shift the metal and see how well it could get around when it let out another low, booming moan. His gaze darted to all the entryways to the courtyard as the echo died away. "No, that's not happening." He stood up and walked back to its head, aiming the gun before taking another ten steps backwards to hopefully avoid any splatter. Cody adjusted his aim and pulled the trigger, flinching as the handgun boomed in the enclosed space. Its head shattered and body no longer moving, he flicked the safety on and started back to the room.

He opened their door and expected Zack to be up and waiting for him but was surprised when he saw that Zack still hadn't moved. He gently closed the door behind him and, now that he wasn't in a rush, dried off and pulled his last pair of dry underwear on. He gave his hair a quick toweling before climbing into the second bed. He yawned once and turned on his side and was asleep before he knew it.

"You should have woken me up," Zack told him as he recounted his adventure the next afternoon. The rain had passed over sometime while they slept and they were enjoying bright sunlight as they stood over the zombie. "And that was the third Jurassic Park, by the way."

"Whatever movie it was, that's what it was doing."

"That's insane."

"It might be insane, but it's true."

"I didn't say it wasn't true," Zack told him, "just insane. You might be wrong about some things, but your record is just about perfect when it comes to these things." Zack toed the remains of the zombie's head with his boot for emphasis.

"Thanks, Zack."

"No problem. You know more or have figured out more about these things than anyone else on the planet, I bet."

"You know what I was afraid of when I looked into its eyes?" Cody asked after they'd passed a few quiet seconds.

"That the zombie would see your junk and point and laugh?" Zack smiled and punched his brother lightly on the shoulder. "I'm kidding. What?"

"That I'd look into its eyes and see some remnant of its humanity trapped in there. I don't know if I'd have been able to pull the trigger if I had."

"Wow, like they were stuck in a monster's body? That's...awful."

"Tell me about it." Cody turned and started walking back to their room. "Should we move on today? I know we slept way in and it's already after four but there's still a lot of daylight left."

"I vote we take the rest of today off. We've traveled enough over the last few weeks and I'm honestly a little sick of highways. We can gear up today and head out tomorrow. There's got to be a Walmart or something in this little burg."

"It's hard for me to believe you want to go into one of those places now."

"I still don't but I didn't think it would be so hard to find the things we need laying around." The twins made a quick stop in the room to better arm themselves before beginning the walk into town. Their luck seemed to be on the upswing after the previous day as they found the giant box a little more than a mile down the street from the hotel.

Once inside the building, all their chatter died away and they got right to work. A cart apiece, they quickly loaded them with clothes, food, and all the water they could find. Their haul was larger than it had been at the last store but it still wasn't as much as either boy had been hoping for.

"We've really got to find something, a deer, a goat, a cow, a rhinoceros, or whatever, and shoot it," Zack said as he tossed a can of sausages into his cart. "I am dying for some meat that doesn't have an expiration date on it." Cody could only nod. They needed protein badly and he knew it as well as Zack did.

"Unless you're in the mood for dog, we're out of luck. That's about all I've seen over the last few days and there even haven't been many of them."

"Do you think the virus or whatever it is that causes people to turn into deadheads affected the other animals?."

"I'm not sure yet. I've been thinking about it but can't make a decision. We've seen a few deer in the woods and by the sides of the roads but I don't understand why there aren't more. I'd think that since there isn't anyone around to shoot or spook them, they'd be everywhere."

"Maybe they're all hiding from the zombies."

"That's the only thing I can think of that makes any sense. It's either that or they're almost all dead."

"Well, one way or the other, I want to shoot one. Hell, I'd almost even settle for dog right about now." Zack put a hand on his belly as it rumbled silently.

"I'd much rather have a deer myself." Eating something that he considered a pet wasn't high on his list of things to do.

They finished up their shopping spree by gathering the remaining few boxes of bullets and then headed for the front of the store. Zack spared the building one last glance over his shoulder as they walked out and Cody could feel the pent-up tension leave his brother as they crossed the parking lot.

"Did you grab any soap while we were in there, Cody?" Zack asked as they rolled the carts to the base of the steps.

"Um, no, because there's soap in the room. Shampoo, too. I saw them earlier. Why? Are you finally starting to smell yourself?"

"Not quite. Now lift up your end and we'll carry it up to the room," Zack said as he lifted. "I figured that since you said there's a creek somewhere around here, we can clean up and use it as a cooler at the same time."

"Use it as a cooler? What are you talking about?" Cody exhaled and set his end of the cart down on the second floor landing. They gave it a little push down the hall and returned for the second.

"For the beer I've been carrying around for the last week. It hit me while we were shopping. The water will be cold, hopefully, at least, and it can chill the beer while we clean up."

"That's not quite what I was expecting but yeah, it should work. I was wondering why you hadn't drank it yet."

"You don't drink warm beer, Cody. It has to be-ouch! Shit. Hang on, I'm not ready yet. Now lift." They maneuvered the second cart up the stairs. "As I was saying before you hit me with the cart, it has to be cold." Zack rubbed his shin before pushing the cart to their room.

A short while later, they were waist deep in a cold stream. They'd found the stream and, after walking along the bank for a few moments, found a wide stretch with slower water. Their filthy clothes were strewn about on the ground while their pistols rested within easy reach on two piles of clean towels. Soap film and bubbles drifted lazily away downstream and the beer chilled in a deep pocket Zack discovered a few feet from the bank.

"You know, times like this can almost make me forget that there's zombies everywhere," Zack said as he swam over to the bank and put his arms on the warm earth. He laid his head on top of them and looked over at Cody.

"It's no Tipton pool but it'll do, that's for sure," Cody said before he dunked his head and rinsed the shampoo out. He flicked all his hair back and sank to his knees and let the water lap at his chin.

The twins laid around and generally relaxed for the next hour, soaking in the sun until it started to set behind the trees. They climbed out and wrapped towels around themselves, more out of habit than anything else, and returned to the room with guns and beer in hand.

"Eww gross!" Zack said later after his first mouthful of beer. "People actually drink this stuff?"

"That bad, huh?" Cody asked, covering a smirk with his hand.

"Yeah that bad. It tastes like...pee water with an extra helping of rat snot." Zack took another sip. "And some yak asshole mixed in for flavor."

"It tastes that bad, yet you take another drink." Cody rolled his eyes.

"Beer is an acquired taste, Cody. I just haven't happened to acquire it yet." Zack took a third gulp and grimaced.

"Well, you've got five and a half to go, Zack. I like your descriptions, by the way."

"Thanks," Zack said around another gulp. "That one tasted like a sweaty jock strap with a side of Mom's pork casserole."

"Okay, I lied. Your descriptions are nasty."

"You sure you don't want one of these?"

"I'm good. I have to drive later," Cody laughed.

Cody wasn't wild about the idea of Zack drinking beer with zombies running around. To him, it sounded like a recipe for getting bitten since it would be much harder to defend yourself with alcohol running through your system. However, despite his reservations, he eventually relented. They hadn't seen more than a handful of zombies all day and Zack had promised to pace himself and not actually get drunk. "I figured I'd end up doing this eventually but I didn't think it would be until we were at least sixteen," Cody had told him when Zack popped the first bottle.

"Cheers," Zack had replied and clinked his bottle against Cody's water glass.

While Zack drank and made horrible faces, Cody busied himself with their new supplies. Sorting clothes was much easier as they were both essentially the same now. He put half the pile on Zack's bed and carefully placed the other half in his bag. Once that was done, Cody put together the largest meal they'd seen since they'd left the hotel. It wasn't five-star dining by any stretch of the imagination but it was still quickly inhaled, potted meat and all, and they sat back on the threadbare beds with full bellies. They talked the night in and neither boy noticed when they fell asleep.

They were well rested the next morning. The lethargy and mental fatigue that had consumed them over the last days was gone, scoured away by a full day of rest and recovery. They ate and packed up their possessions and were ready, perhaps even eager, to move on.

The twins left the hotel, as well as three unopened beers, behind and set out for town again after trying all the cars in the hotel's lot and coming up unsuccessful in their search for transportation. Zack peppered their walk with random questions and comments, leading Cody to believe that the day of rest had done his brother far more good than he knew. He hadn't been this lively in...Cody wasn't sure. Maybe since the first day or two out of Boston. He made a point to eventually bring up occasionally taking a day off during their travels to recharge themselves.

They could see the roof of the Walmart they'd visited the night before and Cody was running a checklist of important items through his mind, ensuring that they had all the little things they could possibly need before they set out again. A small detour back to the store now would only take them a few minutes and potentially save them a lot of trouble if they couldn't resupply again for a while. He came to the conclusion that they were good to go and was about to tell Zack so when his brother stopped dead in his tracks. Busy looking across the street instead in front of him, he ran into Zack's shoulder and bounced back a step.

"How about a little warning next time?" Cody said and peered at Zack's face. Zack was standing completely still and looking past a line of hedges and into the parking lot. Cody followed his gaze. "What the hell is that? A tank?"

"It sure is," Zack nodded and started walking again. He stopped by its massive slab side and ran a hand lovingly over the warm metal. ""This is an M1A2 Abrams...wait, no, not quite. It's a little different."

"That's right, it's a prototype A3," a voice called out from above them. Cody stumbled backwards and fell on his rear as he struggled to pull the pistol on the man, young man, he noted, that popped up in the turret.

"Easy kid, put the gun down," the man told him, putting his empty hands out in front of him. "I watched you both walk all the way down the street. If I was going to do something, this girl could have done it long before now." He patted the turret while Cody lowered the gun and dusted his butt off as he stood up.

"What are you doing here, Mr. Riley?" he asked, having read the name on the man's patch while Zack was busy fawning over the enormous vehicle.

"Right now I'm babysitting this hunk of zombie-mashing metal while my buddies try to find some fuel to feed her."

"Out of gas?" Zack asked absently, his voice still full of amazement and awe.

"Close enough, anyway," the man told him.

"Where'd you get it?"

"We were hauling ass south after our unit got chewed to pieces and decided to go through Philly. We'd heard sporadic radio traffic that there was still a functioning force holding out in the city and thought it would be a good place to go. It wasn't. Everyone was dead, we got trapped, escaped, and found this bad girl sitting in a lonely depot."

"How'd you escape?" Cody asked him, finally trusting him enough to put the pistol back in his pocket.

"We burned down Philly."

"You burned down _Philadelphia_?" Cody's eyes bugged out.

"Most of it."

"How?"

"Aviation gas is incredibly flammable, kid. Add in a lot of wind and no rain for who knows how long, and you've got one hell of an inferno."

"Holy crap," was all Cody could reply.

"Yeah, that's about the same thing me and my buddies said as we were leaving. And speak of the devil, here they come now." The man pointed down the street and a sand-colored shape began to resolve itself into a Humvee as it approached. "How'd it go, fellas?" he asked when it pulled to a stop a few feet away.

"We found a tanker about five miles down the road so we're good on gas now. Who're your new friends, Riley?"

"They're, uh, I don't know. We didn't get that far yet."

"I'm Zack and this is Cody," Zack told him, not taking his eyes off the machine gun sitting atop the Humvee. Cody was just waiting for the first rivulet of drool to roll down his chin any minute now.

The three men on the Humvee went silent and looked at the twins and then at Riley. Riley looked at them and then his friends. One shook his head and whispered to the driver.

"What? What is it?" Cody finally asked when the silence reached five seconds.

"It isn't possible," one of them said.

"Zombies aren't supposed to be possible either," Riley retorted. "Okay, I'll ask. Boys, would your last name happen to be Martin?"

"Yeah," Zack told him, "it is."

"No fuckin' way," came from the Humvee. "No _fuckin' _way. Someone go get me a lottery ticket."

"How'd you know that?"

"Because we met your mother in New York," Riley told them.

_Don't you just hate cliffhangers? I sure do. Somehow I posted the last two times without the notes on the end of the chapters. Not sure how I managed to do this twice but oh well. There probably wasn't anything important in them anyway. What is important is that the story is now two or three chapters past its midpoint. I'm going to do my damnedest to get it finished in the next six weeks because I don't want it hanging over my head while I'm laying on the beach at the end of June. _

_And for the record, Zack was drinking Bud Light. I've never actually tasted pee water with rat snot added in, but I'm pretty sure it would taste exactly like Bud Light. Also, I really hate Philadelphia._


	13. Chapter 13

"Just a small town girl, livin' in a lonely world, she took the midnight train going anywhere..." Carey sang as she drove along. She'd discovered the Journey CD in the backseat when she stopped to water the grass and stretch her legs on the side of the highway an hour or so back. "Just a small town boy, born and raised in south Detroit..." Her heart skipped a beat. "Kurt," she said softly as she reached over and turned off the stereo.

She hadn't thought of him in, well, if she was honest with herself, since the day everything went to shit. She knew he was out on tour this summer but had no idea where he might have been playing when zombies showed up and ruined things. She was supposed to take the boys to see him when he swung through Boston in July. Carey sighed and put both hands back on the wheel.

She supposed she should feel bad about not thinking about him but she really didn't. Their divorce had been amicable and he visited the twins as often as he could, but they'd become two people who didn't talk all that much but happened to have had children together instead of friends despite Kurt's best efforts. "I don't even know where he's living, or lived," she told the dangling air freshener. "I know the packages he sent the boys for their birthdays had his address on it but I'll be damned if I can remember where it was. California? Maybe. Or was it Nevada?" Vegas sounded right to her for no reason she could think of. Carey frowned and reached for her water bottle.

Besides, she'd been a little on the busy side for the last while with the zombies and the escape from New York and then her daring entry and incredible exit from Boston. She hadn't spared many thoughts for a ton of other people either. How was Mama Rosa doing? Did the cute boy who always bagged her groceries and always offer to take them out to her car get out alive? What about Maddie or London or Arwin? Were they still alive? Carey pushed those thoughts away. They mattered, she admitted, as did Kurt, but there were two things she'd thought about every minute of every day, two things she was living for right now, two things that mattered, and they were currently making their way across an infested country on their way to a farm in the middle of nowhere.

The song ended and Carey reached over and played it again. "A singer in a smoky room, a smell of wine and cheap perfume," she sang, putting all of herself behind the song instead of only barely singing along. The more she sang, the more cathartic it felt. She hit the notes of the chorus and found her breath hitching in her chest. She took a deep, cleansing breath and let it all flow out of her.

Carey quickly found that it was hard to drive with tears in your eyes so she pulled over and let them out. She turned off the truck and stepped out, ducking back in long enough to grab the shotgun before heading to the front and leaning against the grill. She cried for her boys, her ex-husband, all her friends and family, and finally for herself. When the tears finally ran dry, Carey wiped her eyes and got back in the truck.

"I will find you, boys, I swear it. Don't stop believin'." Carey turned the truck back on and sped away.

Carey had changed the CD a few minutes before she saw the cars laying across the middle of the road. Bon Jovi was playing and she could see them (and their huge hair. Oh how she'd loved that back in the 80s) on stage in her mind's eye. "What is this?" Carey asked herself as she slowed to little more than a crawl. She was about half a mile from what she thought were two cars straddling the center of the road nose to nose. There was the unmistakeable sign of movement around the cars as well.

"You really don't want to mess with me today," Carey said under her breath as she considered her options. She was just about to put the truck in reverse when she saw a little green car appear over the hill behind her. "I passed you a minute ago. Oh hell no," she said as she realized she had been set up and they were now trying to box her in. Reverse was out of the question now, she realized, so Carey gunned the engine and the truck accelerated rapidly.

Three forms materialized at the small roadblock and she was all but certain they were aiming guns of some sort at her as she sped at them. Carey had intended to use the grass at the side of the road as her way past the roadblock but saw that whoever these people were, they'd set up shop in a perfect place. The shoulder on each side dropped away precariously, down into a steep hill on the right side and into a drainage ditch on the left. "If I can't go around you, I'll go through you," Carey said as she made sure her seat belt was fastened. She swore she could feel her pupils dilate as an adrenaline flush coursed through her body.

The gun barrels aimed at her winked as she closed the last few yards and she instinctively slouched down in the seat. She hit the center of the two cars at almost sixty and sent them spinning. She watched as the tail of one of the cars clipped a man who'd managed to get out of the way of the initial crash and flung him head-first down the hill. "Who makes a roadblock out of little cars, anyway?" she asked as she slowed down and looked in the rear-view mirror. "Amateurs."

Carey slowed further as she waited to see if the other car was going to come after her or not. She pulled the truck across the road and put it in park. She leaned out the window and watched the car stop at the wreck. A person got out and looked the scene over and seemed to be thinking about giving chase. Carey revved the engine, figuring the sound would be more than loud enough to carry to the small gathering. She knew she was asking for trouble but didn't care. Her blood was up.

When it became clear that she wasn't going to have any company, she put the truck back in gear and continued down the highway. As she got up to speed, a heavy vibration began to shake the steering wheel in her hand. Far from an expert in car-related things, she still knew that was a very bad sign. The truck still drove more or less straight and wasn't coughing any smoke so she figured she could ride it for a while yet. She wasn't sure how this was possible since a look at the front of the truck through the windshield showed metal that was torn and bent in all sorts of directions. "American steel," she said as she patted the dashboard.

Carey drove on for another hour before the shaking got too bad to handle. She found the nearest freeway exit and steered the truck down the ramp. She stopped at the bottom and looked both ways and saw absolutely nothing but fields in each direction. Randomly choosing left, she drove on, keeping the speed under twenty to keep the truck steerable. Carey finally saw a few buildings and gave a short sigh of relief as she approached them.

She chose a house and pulled the truck in its driveway. Carey got out of the truck and walked to the front of it to inspect the damage. The grill was gone, the hood was buckled, and lots of parts that she couldn't name were dangling by their little wires. The bumper was split in almost half, she saw as she squatted down and looked at the now-visible undercarriage. That was a mess. Carey wasn't sure how the truck had managed to get her as far as it had with as many mangled parts as she saw.

Carey patted the hood affectionately as she got her bag out of the truck. She stood by the house and listened to the neighborhood but only heard the ticking of the engine. Satisfied she was alone for the moment, Carey walked around to the back door and broke in. She strode into the house and put the gun down on an oak table and took the tactical vest off. Carey was instantly a few degrees cooler.

Feeling comfortable enough to only walk around with the pistol, Carey began to explore the first floor of the house and quickly found that it had at one time been full of kids. Crayon drawings and report cards covered the refrigerator and there was an assortment of small, colorful plates and bowls stacked on a shelf. She was reminded of the set of Power Ranger glasses that someone had given her when the twins were young. "They loved those stupid things. Zack refused to drink out of anything but the Red Ranger for a year. Wasn't he the one that ended up doing porn?" Carey laughed to herself.

She was about to leave the kitchen when she saw a pitcher half-filled with a lime green liquid sitting on the counter next to a bunch of Kool-Aid packets near it. There was a dusting of white powder around the pitcher and the packets. _Looks like they ran away before they got to finish their Kool-Aid, _Carey thought as she put her finger in the powder and tasted it. She wrinkled up her nose when it tasted more like chalk than drink mix or sugar. "What the hell? I wouldn't drink this either," she said as she wiped her finger on her pants. "I guess the kids tried to make it or something," she muttered as she licked her sleeve to clean her tongue off.

She finished her explorations and walked up the steps, hoping to find a the mom's room full of clothes that were her size. She pushed the first door she found open and saw it was a child's room. She was about to close the door back when she caught a glimpse of the bed out of the corner of her eye. Carey turned back into the room and walked over, not able to take her eyes off of the lump on the mattress. There was a boy, five or six years old if she had to guess, laying peacefully before her. His arms were folded over his chest and there didn't seem to be a hair out of place. "Please, oh please just be sleeping," she said, putting a hand on the boy's chest and waiting for the slow rise and fall of breath. There was nothing and Carey slowly withdrew her hand. She took a shaky step back and bumped into a small table, knocking a large cup to the floor.

She bent down to pick it up, out of respect for the boy's final resting place, when she noticed a dried green film along the bottom of the glass. Everything clicked into place for her at that instant. Carey put the glass back on the table and backed out of the room. She closed the boy's door and checked the next, fully expecting to find the exact same thing.

She wasn't disappointed. There was a slightly older boy laying just like his brother, arms crossed, hair perfectly in place, and seemingly a smile on his slack face. Carey saw another glass with the same dried gunk at the bottom and she leaned against the wall. She left the room and found a third, this one with a little girl dressed in Dora pajamas. One more door to check, Carey pushed it open and found a woman with a bottle of pills in her dead hands laying half on and half off the bed.

"My God, she Jim Jones-ed them," Carey said in disbelief. "Sent them to bed with a belly full of Kool-Aid laced with sleeping pills." She shook her head and leaned against the wall. With a huge sigh, Carey left the room and pulled the door closed behind her. Whatever was in this house was staying in this house. Everything was tainted.

Carey slipped the tac vest back on and grabbed her bag and shotgun and left the house of death as fast as she could. One more minute in that place and she would vomit. As she walked aimlessly down the street, she tried as hard as she could to put herself in the woman's position and found it was impossible. "I don't care how bad it looks, I couldn't do it," she said aloud. That didn't mean that she couldn't understand, distantly, why the other woman had done such a terrible act.

Would she want her sons to become infected? To become flesh eating monstrosities? Of course not. But could she knowingly kill them herself before it happened? Would that be an act of kindness or murder? "Murder. Pure and simple," Carey said. "In a world like this, taking an innocent life is the ultimate wrong." As black and white as that statement was, Carey couldn't ignore all the grey that swam around its edges, grey that she wouldn't be able to fathom until or unless she was placed in that situation. Terrible visions of her twins stumbling after her danced around the corner of her mind.

"Fuck me, I need a drink." Carey turned her mind away from dark thoughts as she saw a darkened bar a block over and across the street. She shivered involuntarily as her mind gave one last attempt to return to the deadhouse. She crossed the street and stopped outside the small tavern's door with an ear pressed against the wood. Silence. Good. Carey pushed and the door swung open.

The interior of the building reminded her of all the bars she'd wasted her early years in. Faint smells of spilled beer, old tobacco smoke, and sweat reached her nose and she drank them in. She walked behind the bar and pulled a glass from the rack and took stock of what she had to work with. Surprisingly, there was quite the assortment. Her mind ran through a list of drinks she'd learned to make over the years before settling on her old stand-by. "One margarita on the rocks, hold the rocks," she said as she poured some off-brand of tequila and triple sec into her glass. She filled it the rest of the way with the mix and took a long drink. It wasn't cold but that didn't matter.

Carey was slightly astonished at how quickly she'd emptied the glass and how good it tasted. "Bartender, I'll have another," she said softly as she made a second drink. "Give me a shot, too. Patron if you have it." There was no Patron but that didn't stop Carey from pouring herself a shot. She pounded it down and felt the burn as it traveled through her throat and into her stomach. Carey suddenly remembered back to the first time she'd ever been drunk.

_I was at Amy Perkins' birthday party, _shethought_, and it was a big deal because her mom said __she could invite boys. We cut the cake and had ice cream and then went into the basement to dance and be loud. Man, her mom was clueless." _Careysmiled_. We were listening to Depeshe Mode and someone, that redheaded Jimmy kid I think, spiked the punch bowl. Somehow I ended up letting Scotty Westbrook feel a boob and he came in his pants. _"Oh, those were the days. Those were the days." Carey finished her drink and briefly considered taking the bottle of tequila with her. She chose not to and walked out of the bar, feeling much calmer than she did when she came in.

"Depeshe Mode? What were we thinking?" she laughed to herself as she made her way down the sidewalk. She looked over the cars along the side of the road and walked closer to see if any of them happened to have their keys still in the ignition. She knew she'd have an easier time finding a set of keys hanging on the wall in someone's house with the car sitting right outside in the driveway, but she didn't want to go into another house now. She felt gooseflesh pop out on her arms as she thought about the dead children.

"No, I'll walk first, thank you very much," she thought as she walked past a neighborhood and kept checking cars. She had walked almost two miles and saw the first signs of the fields that surrounded the small town in the distance but still had no luck. She frowned and stopped, pondering her next move.

It was late but not yet dark. There was enough moonlight to walk by and still keep watch. Carey turned back to look at the small burg. Sleeping in a house or a garage or even a tool shed was better than sleeping in a field for a variety of reasons. She turned back to the outskirts. Every mile she traveled now was one less she'd have to travel tomorrow.

"Shit," she muttered as she started back toward the rows of identical houses. Common sense had won out. Carey made her way to the first side street and turned, checking the houses she passed for garages. She found one and walked up its driveway, pausing by the house momentarily before shaking her head and heading for the smaller outbuilding. A quick tug on the rolling door's handle revealed it to be locked and she walked around to the side door.

Carey smashed a pane of glass from the door's window with her elbow and reached her hand inside and unlocked the door. She pulled it open and had to stop her hand from involuntarily reaching for the light switch. She peered into the gloom and saw a car wrapped in a dust cover and rack after rack of tools hanging from the walls.

"What were you working on in here, Mr. Mechanic?" Carey wondered aloud as she grabbed the bottom of the dust cover and began pulling it off the car. As the car was revealed, Carey could only whistle. Sitting before her was a fully restored classic Dodge Charger, painted orange and only missing the Confederate flag on the roof and 01s on the side. Her mind instantly started playing the _Dukes of Hazzard_ theme song and she couldn't help but run her hand over the roof to make sure it was real. "Kurt had one of these. Can't say his ever looked quite this good but it's the same car."

Carey walked around the car and smiled as she thought about Kurt for the second time that day. "Last time I was in a car like this I ended up with twins," she said as she started looking around the garage for the keys. She pulled out her small flashlight and panned the beam around the wall. Having no success in the obvious spots, she walked over to the work bench and began going through the doors.

"Come on, I know you're in here somewhere."

She found them a minute later, laying under a Chilton guide. She picked them up and got in the car, hoping that it would start. "It would be anti-climactic to find the keys and then have the engine not working." She turned the key and was greeted with a low rumble as the engine turned over and into life. "There we go." Carey goosed the gas pedal and the car surged against the brake with its power.

Now knowing that her ride for the next day worked, Carey turned the car off and climbed into the back seat. She yawned once and curled up into a ball and was asleep before she could do more than wish for a blanket.

The first thing she realized when she woke up the next morning was that neither of the Duke boys was laying beside her and she frowned as the last remnants of her dream floated away. The second thing she noticed was that it was raining hard. Carey twisted around and looked out through the back glass and through the side door. Her watch said it was already after nine but the heavy clouds made it look more like dusk. She stretched and crawled out of the back seat and stretched again.

Carey yawned as she looked at the rolling door. It wouldn't open from the outside so there were locks. But where? Her eyes roamed the sides of the aluminum door before settling on two small locks, one on each side. She frowned as she foresaw another long search for keys since she was taking this car, one way or the other. "Or we can just do it the Zack way," she said as she noticed a hammer sitting on the workbench.

It took a total of five swings to break the locks off their housings. Carey tossed the hammer back on the bench and bent down, grabbing the bottom of the door and lifting. It rolled up and revealed an ugly sky and torrential rains. "Perfect," she said sarcastically, turning back to the car and loading her supplies. She had just gone to the rear of the car and was sipping from a water bottle when she heard a familiar moan.

"Oh hell no," Carey exclaimed as the lone zombie took its first step into the garage. Her eyes told her that it would every likely cut her off if she went for the shotgun in the car so she scanned the walls for another weapon. She grinned as she found a salt-crusted metal grain shovel. It was in her hand in a flash and she took two steps forward, choking up on the handle like a baseball bat. The zombie reached out a filthy hand to her and she hit it, spinning the thing around sideways. It righted itself and advanced again.

Carey never was much of a baseball fan. She'd taken the twins to a couple of Red Sox games every year they'd lived in Boston but she didn't like it, barely able to hide her utter boredom as the game moved along at a snail's pace. Zack would watch every inch of the field at once while she'd occasionally study the backsides of the players. Cody would rattle off an impressive stat or two while she would look dreamily at Derek Jeter's charming face whenever the Yankees were in town.

She wasn't sure who's swing she most resembled, but was sure Zack could tell her, but she started low and ended high. The face of the shovel caught the zombie in the chest and sent it flying backwards. It stumbled into the corner before righting itself and charging at her. Carey readied her hands and let them go a second time, catching the zombie head this time. She heard the distinct sound of teeth breaking as it sprawled back out into the rain. It rolled over on its belly and began pushing itself upright. Carey dropped the shovel and retrieved her shotgun.

"Strike three, asshole," she said as she pulled the trigger and removed its head. Carey pushed a new shell in the shotgun and put it back in the car. She gave the garage one last once-over, looking for anything that might be of use on her trip but came up empty. She shrugged and got in the car, buckling up before starting the beauty up.

Carey revved the engine several times before easing the car out of the garage. She flicked the lights and the wipers on and checked the gauges. Everything seemed to look good so she stepped on the gas, nearly fish-tailing as the power in the old car caught her by surprise. Carey got it under control and steered the car onto the main street and headed for the highway.

She was on it a few minutes later after picking her way through a small pile-up near the on-ramp. The rain was slowing her down, she figured. There was nothing but empty road in front of her but she couldn't risk gunning it and seeing what the car could really do on the unfamiliar and slick roads. Carey settled in at a comfortable forty and drove on through the rain.

She passed the next seven hours behind the wheel, passing in and out of heavy storms and stopping only for a call of nature and a fortuitous fill-up. She'd run the tank down to barely over the red E and was planning on driving until it quit when she passed a pickup truck on the side of the road with a bed full of red plastic gas tanks. She saw it as she drove past and stomped on the brakes, hoping that she might be starting a run of good luck. Carey put the care in reverse and backed up the hundred feet until she pulled even with the truck.

She got out and walked to the truck's tailgate and hoped. She picked one up and smiled at the weight. Carey put it back down and looked around, ready for any sign of trouble. She'd long ago learned that anything this good and easy was likely too good to be true. She opened one of the containers and took a sniff and her nose wrinkled slightly. "I don't know why this is here or what happened to you," she said almost reverently to the empty truck, "but thanks for the gas." Five minutes later, tank full and another refill sitting in the trunk, Carey was back behind the wheel again.

She'd passed out of Pennsylvania and was well into Ohio by late afternoon. The rain had picked up again and the sky had darkened. Her hand was tapping on the wheel in time to Guns N' Roses when she passed a sign stating she was less than twenty miles from Columbus. "I am officially almost halfway there," she said. She was thinking about how much quicker she'd been able to move once she'd gotten herself out of the crowded Northeast and into less densely settled areas "Oh, Jolene, if you're still on the farm, you will not believe the stories I have to tell you," she said just as the front tires hydroplaned.

"Shit shit oh shit," she screamed as she fought for control. Carey turned the wheel hard to the right and then back again and found herself in a circle of over-correction. The back of the car slewed around and she slid off the shoulder of the road backwards. Jumbled and bouncy visions of onrushing trees filled the rear view mirror and she tried to spin the car around to gain some sort of control. The tires had just caught a bit of traction when she slammed into the stand of trees. She splintered and exploded the first few but hit the center of a massive old oak and came to a very abrupt stop.

Carey's body was tossed like a rag doll against the restraints during the impact. Her head snapped back when she hit the tree and then everything was thrown forward as the car spun sideways and came to rest against another another tree. The last things she saw before she slipping into unconsciousness was the spidered glass of the windshield and the cherry scented air freshener.

_I'm just going to go ahead and stop saying that chapters will be up by a certain date because something always comes up IRL and makes me miss my deadlines. Sorry about that. If I ever say it'll be up by Monday or whatever, just go ahead and add three days to it. Aside from that, I don't have much to say except that, yes, I happened to be watching a lot of Dukes of Hazzard the last few days while playing late night nurse to sick kids. Fun. Oh, and look...I can post two chapters at once, too!_


	14. Chapter 14

"You met our mother?" Cody exclaimed in surprise. He looked over at Zack and saw the same expression on his brother's face. "How?"

"Yeah, how'd you meet her?" Zack added, taking a step to be by Cody's side.

"We were some of the poor guys tasked to hold a few blocks of New York City against millions of zombies, boys," Riley told them. "The safe zone had just collapsed and we were set to get the hell out of there when we found her by our truck. Being the upstanding gentlemen we were, we offered her a ride and she said yes."

"Don't forget to tell them about the part where you broke the truck, Riley. You can't leave that out."

"I'm never going to hear the end of that, am I, Cook?"

"Nope," the young Marine said with a snicker.

"Okay, so after we picked your mom up, we got out of the zone as fast as we could. A few blocks later, I was driving, by the way, I hit the mother of all potholes and tore the underside of the truck to pieces. After that we had to walk and fight our way block by bloody block through hundreds and hundreds of zombies."

"Jeez, I bet Mom was scared out of her mind, huh, Cody? Can you imagine her trying to hold a rifle? 'Which end does the bullet come out of again, sir?'" Zack joked while pretending to look in an imaginary gun barrel.

"I wouldn't take that bet, Zack. You'd win," Cody told him and instantly noticed the Marines were all silently staring at them. "What?"

Riley shook his head at them for a few seconds before answering. "You boys really don't know your mother very well, do you?" he said sternly. "She was right there with the rest of us, battling and scrapping for her life as well as ours."

"That's right. There was one time, right before we went down in the sewers, when a zed had grabbed me from behind and was about to give me the bite of death. I'd barely turned around by the time your mother had bashed the butt of her shotgun against the side of his head. It staggered back and then she stuck the barrel under the thing's chin and blew what was left of its brains all over the side of a building," Private Cook told them, pantomiming a gun under his chin.

"Our mom did that?" Cody was amazed. "Wow."

"No kidding," Zack said softly, obviously cowed.

"Oh, that's not all," Riley continued. "The next morning the four of us started heading south and, as hard as I tried, she refused to go with us." Cody had the distinct impression that they'd pissed the men off a little bit by disparaging their mother in front of them.

"Where'd she go?" Zack asked but Cody knew.

"Boston," he and Riley said at the same time. "That's right, Cody. She left the four of us and all the firepower we were carrying to sneak out of New York City and then sneak _into_ Boston. To look for you two." Riley stopped with that but there was an unmistakeable _so you'd better check your attitude about her at the fucking door _added on with his Marine glare that neither boy missed. Zack swallowed hard and Cody twinged inwardly at the unexpected dressing-down.

"I never would have guessed she could do that," Cody admitted after a bit.

"Neither did I," Zack concurred.

"The zombies have brought out all sorts of things in all of us," Riley told them. "I never thought I'd drive a tank across the country or burn down a major city but I have."

"I want to hear that story," Zack told him eagerly.

"Let's eat first and then we can have story time," Riley answered and the boys agreed.

The small group migrated to the shadows thrown by a handful of tall trees and and settled in for an early lunch. The twins were 'treated' to a meal of military MREs. They inhaled them with the gusto that only someone who hadn't eaten them regularly could have. The Marines watched them dig in as they picked at their own. After the meal was over, Zack and Cody told the men about their journey and then it was time for the Marines' tale.

"So the four of us headed south from New York City," Riley began after a long drink from his canteen. "We parted ways with your mother and tried to make it back to the old safe zone to see if we could salvage any gear from that mess but it was still crawling with zombies. We got no closer than, what would you say, Howard? Half a mile?" Howard nodded. "There were literally tons of supplies just sitting there on the concrete but we couldn't get to them. Bullets, chow, tanks, all of it. Might as well have been at the bottom of the ocean. So we skirted the zone and worked our way south over the next three days. I'll tell you the honest truth, boys, I've never been as happy in my life as I was the second we got off that god-forsaken island.

"Our original plan was to head home to Georgia and check on our families. We knew that it was almost surely a lost cause but, like your mom, we had to check for ourselves. We were traveling along the coast when ol' Cook here finally realized his radio was off."

"Like I told you before, Riley, I thought the damn thing was broken. It hadn't worked since we bugged out of the safe zone the first time," Cook said with playful indignity. They'd obviously had this discussion before.

"As much as we wanted to, we couldn't abandon our fellow Marines like that so we made for Philly as fast as we could. At one point, we even hot wired a city bus. Not quite the same as a tank but it didn't stop for much.

"We stopped getting reports from them about two hours before we reached the city and took that as a bad sign. When we did arrive, we scouted the place out and found that they'd been overrun. In hindsight, we should have just left right then and there and been done with it all but we didn't. There was just too much stuff laying around for us to not grab what we could.

"We started looking around and found enough crates of bullets to fill an Olympic swimming pool, enough food to feed an army, somewhere around three dozen Humvees, and," Riley pointed to the slab-sided tank resting a short distance away, "that baby right there." I knew we had to take her because nothing says _fuck you _to a bunch of zombies quite like a tank. It might only be a prototype but the important parts work and that makes it the baddest thing on the planet."

"What Riley isn't telling you guys is that he had hot Transformer sex with the tank he loves so much while we did all the grunt work," Howard told them with a grin.

"Not quite," Riley laughed and rolled his eyes. "Anyway, we had the Humvee loaded full of supplies and I'd just gone over the tank and checked it out when we got a short burst over the radio. There was a pair of Marines trapped in a building near the edge of the lot and we went to help. As it turned out, both those assholes were bit and turned on us a few minutes after we fought our way to them. That sucked. What sucked even more is that we ended up getting trapped in the same damn building.

"Fast forward a few days again and I'm a little tired of being stuck in a cramped building with these guys and their horrible body odor. There was a stockpile of helicopter fuel a hundred yards away from us and we decided to say the hell with it and use it as a very large diversion. If it happened to burn down the football stadium behind us, well, I was okay with that. We shot the barrels and let the fuel spread and then tossed a thermite grenade and whoosh! That fireball must have been a mile high.

"I don't know if zeds can actually be afraid of anything, but they sure didn't like the approaching sea of fire. They crawled ass and we hauled ass back across the parking lot and got the hell out of there. The fire was licking at our backsides the entire way. By the time we were out of the city and looked back, I'd say at least half of it was ablaze."

"Holy shit, that's awesome," Zack said.

"I won't lie, it kind of was," Riley admitted.

Cody leaned back in the grass an put his head on his hands. "How much do you know about how all this started, Mr. Riley? I mean, we know what the news told us but I doubt they told us anything important. Or maybe even remotely true."

"We probably don't know a whole lot more than you do about how it started since we aren't wearing any general stars on our sleeves, Cody. That said, I'd put money on a scientist, a government scientist, that is, messing up somewhere or playing with something he shouldn't have."

"That's the same thing I figured. Any idea how it spread around the world so fast? I don't see how it could get as far as it did so fast."

"Ah, that's easy," Riley told him. "We put it there."

"Huh?" Cody sat up bolt-straight.

"I don't have any solid proof for that but I know it's true."

"Why? Why would we do that?"

"You think Uncle Sam is going to sit back and let one of our enemies or whatever we're calling them these days make a move on us while we're down and dealing with a zombie outbreak? Hell no. So China got some zombies, Russia got some zombies, and you'd better believe those nut jobs in North Korea got some zombies. From there it just spread like wildfire. Probably not one of their better ideas."

"Wow," was all Cody could say.

"It's a mind trip, isn't it?"

"Yeah, that's for sure." Cody's mind boggled at the thought of over one and a half _billion _zombies roaming the Chinese countryside. And then there was another billion something in India..."I think I need to walk that off," he said, getting to his feet and wandering a short distance away.

"Is your brother going to be okay, Zack?" Riley asked softly.

"Yeah, he'll be fine in a little while. He just needs time to work through all that or whatever he does."

"Your mom said he was the the thoughtful twin," Riley said as they watched Cody stroll through the parking lot.

"What'd she say about me?"

"A lot of things, actually," Riley laughed. He stood up and stretched.

"Oh yeah? Like what?" Zack followed him to his feet.

"Don't worry. Most of them were good." The man turned his head so Zack couldn't see the smile that broke out across his face.

"Whats that supposed to mean?"

"Don't worry about it." He ruffled Zack's hair playfully. "Hey, do you want to help me check the loads on the fifties?"

"Do I?" By the tone of Zack's voice, it was easy for the world to know that was the dumbest question he'd ever been asked. "Sure I do! Can I shoot one, too?"

"Maybe. Come on, kid." Riley started for the tank first and Zack fell in step beside him.

Cody had parked himself on the hood of a car a few yards away from the tank and half-listened as Zack peppered the young Marine with question after question about the workings of the metal behemoth. He quickly decided that the man had the patience of a saint or else he would have told Zack to zip his lip long ago.

"What kind of shells are you carrying for the big gun?" Cody heard him ask.

"We've got a few high-explosive shells, a couple penetrators just in case, but lots and lots of beehive rounds." Zack must have made a questioning face because the tanker explained. "They're pretty much like giant shotgun shells. They come out of the barrel and sound like a swarm of angry bees right before they shred to pieces anything that happens to have the misfortune of being in front of them."

"That is the most awesome thing I've ever heard," Zack said and Cody grinned. Good old Zack, Cody thought as he heard more than he ever wanted to know about the inner workings of the tank.

"Can I shoot the machine gun now?" Zack asked earnestly after he'd listened to a long-winded talk about something that went right over Cody's head. Something to do with turbines and gear reduction.

Riley looked at his fellow soldiers and they just shrugged. "Why not?" Howard answered. "We've got bullets for days," he said, pointing to the large crates strapped to the top of the turret and the third between the fuel drums on the back of the turret.

"Looks like your birthday came early, Zack. Hop on up here." He directed Zack into place and knelt close by. Cody could see a grin so large that it threatened to split his brother's face in two as he got ready. Riley told him to aim at the building and Zack did, fingers tensing tightly as he waited for the okay to blast the Walmart to pieces. "Go for it."

Zack did. Repeated _whump whump whumps_ filled the air as he sent dozens of rounds screaming into the front of the store. The glass shattered into thousands of tiny pieces and fist-sized chunks of concrete exploded out of the wall as he raked the gun across the facade. Spent shell casings clattered to the ground beside the tank. When the belt finally ran dry, Zack's face looked like he'd just come off the world's biggest roller coaster.

"So how was it?" Cody asked him, unable to keep a straight face while looking at Zack's infectious smile.

"I...I could die happy now," he replied, leaning against the back of the cupola in supreme satisfaction.

"There's clean underwear in your bag if you need them."

"I just might. Wow, thanks, Riley. That was incredible."

"No problem, Zack. Now help me change the belt and we'll call it even." Cody turned away and missed Zack trying to manhandle a box of ammunition that weighed almost as much as he did while he pulled their map out of his back pocket and spread it out over the car's hood. His fingers were busy tracing along the route he'd highlighted when he felt someone behind him.

"Oh, hey," he said as he turned around. Riley was standing there. Behind him, Zack was poking around the Humvee with the other Marines.

"Hey, Cody," Riley answered. Cody studied his face and could see that he was conflicted about something. The young man opened his mouth once and shut it before he said anything.

"What's the matter, Mr. Riley?"

"Cody, part of me is wishing that I didn't tell you that we ran into your mother a little while ago."

"Huh?" Cody was perplexed. Why wouldn't he want to tell him good news like that?

"I was going to ask you the same thing I asked her when she left us, that you and your brother are more than welcome to come along with us. I'd prefer it if you did, actually. I've always had this nagging feeling that we let her go off to her death. There's a lot of zombies between New York and Boston."

"We can't, sir. If she made it to Boston, she'll see our note and go to my aunt's farm. We have to be there."

Riley sighed. "I know, Cody. I want to tell you that you're making a mistake but I can't. I can't see the future. You might make it out there with no problems and we might not make it to the next county." Riley leaned against the side of the car and crossed his arms over his chest.

"I know our mom would appreciate your effort as much as I do, sir. If we didn't think there was a chance of meeting up with her again, we'd go along with you."

"She's a lucky woman to have kids like you boys, Cody," Riley told him.

"Thank you, sir."

"I wish you'd change your mind but I know you won't." Riley put a hand on Cody's shoulder and squeezed gently. "That said, since you won't go with us the whole way, what about we take you to right about here?" He pointed to the spot where Cody's highlighter diverged from the highway they were on and headed west.

Cody's face lit up. "I'll have to ask Zack but I think that will work."

"He can ride in the tank if he wants."

"Zack's in," Cody laughed. "I don't even need to ask him."

"Good. I guess I can live with that," Riley told him as Cody started refolding the map. "Do you two have anything left to do here? I want to get to that fuel truck as soon as possible."

"I think we're done here. Whenever you're ready, sir."

Cody stuck the map back in his pocket and went to share the news with his brother. He pulled Zack away from the soldiers and told him of Riley's offer, playing it slow and cool, before mentioning that he could ride in the tank.

"Well hell yes we can do that," Zack exclaimed and nearly hugged Cody before he caught himself. "I mean, yeah, that sounds like a good idea." A chorus of laughter came from the men standing near the Humvee.

Five minutes later they were moving out. Cody was riding in the smaller Humvee while Zack was sitting proudly in the turret beside his new hero, Riley. They kept the pace rather slow to conserve the few remaining gallons of gas in the tank but Zack didn't care. They could be moving along at a snail's pace and it wouldn't matter to him. He watched the landscape roll by, one hand laying lovingly on the barrel of the fifty-caliber monster in front of him.

The fuel tanker was just where the other Marines had said it was, sitting in the parking lot of an abandoned shopping center. Riley told the driver to pull as close to the truck as he could while he had Cody and the Humvee run ahead to scout the area. "It's going to take a while to fill this beast as well as the extra fuel tanks we strapped to the back," he said. "It would suck incredibly hard to be surprised while we have our pants down."

Cody left with Howard, who he had decided was his second favorite of the men, and raced ahead. Howard drove and put Cody in charge of the pair of powered binoculars. They had just stopped at the crest of a small hill and Cody was standing on the hood and looking around when his jaw dropped.

"Where did they come from?" he asked incredulously, pointing at the mass of zombies that was trampling everything in their path as they trudged out of a line of trees. He handed Howard the binoculars and squinted into the distance.

"I'm more worried about where they're going," Howard replied. They watched as the throng steadily advanced toward the rest of their small team. A few seemed to look in their direction, and an even smaller number began shambling their way, but the vast majority of them were on their way to Zack and the others.

"Not good." Howard pushed the binoculars back into Cody's hand and ducked into the Humvee to grab the radio. "Hey boss, looks like you guys are going to have company in a few minutes. Lots of company."

"Copy that, Howard," Riley's voice said through the radio. "Think you can slow them down for us?

"I don't think we're carrying that much ammo on the Hummer, boss."

"That many, huh? Just get back here and give us a little support. We've got the beast's tank about a quarter full. If we can't top off the tank and barrels here, we'll just have to do it somewhere else."

"Roger that, Riley. We'll be back in a minute." Howard hung the mic back on its hook and slid into the seat. "Let's go, Cody. We have to go babysit the big boys for a while."

Cody hopped down and buckled up as the Humvee leaped forward. He tried to do a quick count as they drove past the herd of zombies but gave up. It was like trying to count individual locusts in a swarm. The similarities between the zombies and the locusts gave him a chill. They pulled in beside the tank with a squeal of tires and burnt rubber.

"How long do we have, Howard?"

"I'd say five minutes."

"Maybe even less than that," Cody interjected. "It looks like they're moving faster than they did before," he added when the group looked at him. "When I was looking at them through the binoculars, they didn't seem to be as uncoordinated as they used to be."

"So what are you saying, Cody? Are they evolving or something?"

"I hope not. I really hope not," he told them gravely.

The men continued pumping fuel from the truck as fast as they could, each aware that a wall of undeath was inexorably walking their way. Cody heard them first and pointed to the end of the street. Though he'd heard it a hundred times by now, the low wail of the zombies still made his skin crawl.

"How's it looking, Cook?" Riley asked as he stood in front of the tank.

"The main tank is full and we're working on the spare drums on the back now."

"Forget them. Gas up the Humvee and we'll top them off later."

"Right." Cook moved the hose from the spare tanks to the smaller vehicle and turned the nozzle on.

"Do you think all those zombies heard their buddy calling for help the other night?" Zack asked, hand resting on his pistol's grip and flexing.

"Unless his call carried dozens of miles, I doubt it. They'd have been here already if they did. This just makes me think that they smelled us. Whatever they were doing on the other side of those woods, they knew we were here and decided to come get a bite to eat. And to answer the question you're about to ask, yes, I still think he was calling for help. There just wasn't anyone around to come save him."

"They're going to need someone to save them from us," Zack said as he patted the tank's massive track."

Everyone's attention was focused to their front as the horde neared so no one noticed the zombies that approached from behind. There were far fewer, twenty or so, but they caused a disproportionally huge amount of havoc for their number.

Cody heard the first one and fell as his feet tangled when he turned turned. He went down in a heap and barely managed a pained yelp as a warning. Zack and the Marines wheeled around and found the zombies in their midst. Someone yelled "oh shit," before the fight began.

"Cody!" Zack screamed as the zombies joined them.

Cody was trying to get to his feet but he was too slow. The zombie he'd seen and reacted to was on him, already leaning forward to drop on him. He screamed as it dove in, somehow managing in his terror to get his hands on the zombie's chest and keep its gnashing mouth away from him. He struggled against the thing's weight, trying to throw it off, when he saw a giant boot fly in from his left and connect with the creature's head. He heard its neck snap as it fell away.

"Get up!" Riley shouted over the din of battle and yanked Cody to his feet. He shoved the boy behind him and up against the tank as he emptied his sidearm into another three zombies that dared come too close. They fell as the sound of three assault rifles and a shotgun split the air. The rest of the small group of zombies collapsed in bloody heaps. There were more coming, not as many as in the main group, but a sizable amount.

"Cody! Are you okay?" Zack asked, rushing over to his brother's side and looking him over.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just fell and it was on me so fast." Cody was surprised when Zack wrapped him in a hug. He hugged back.

"Good. I was scared I'd lost you for a minute." Zack looked almost uncomfortable saying those words.

"The hell was all that shit? Where'd they come from?" Howard bellowed as he put another round into a twitcher.

"Did they just fucking ambush us?" Cook added in as he slammed a new clip in his rifle.

"They better not have," Riley said. "That would be a very bad thing but we'll worry about it later. For now, let's get the hell out of here. We have enough gas to go a couple hundred miles." During the small battle, the large group of zombies had closed within a hundred yards, stretching from one end of the horizon to the other. They loaded themselves into their vehicles and cranked the engines. Oily smoke belched from the tank as it began to thrum.

"Load some beehives," Riley called down into the bowels of the tank from his perch as it began to rumble forward. "Stay behind us," he yelled through cupped hands to the Humvee and got a thumbs-up in response. Finally, he leaned to his left and yelled "shoot anything that fucking moves," in Zack's ear.

"You got it," Zack replied with a terrible smile.

They pulled away from the tanker and roared at the zombies. Riley gave the order to fire the main gun and a second later a buzz saw ripped through the undead. Zack's eyes widened as he saw what had been a hundred zombies turned into a pink mist as thousands of pieces of metal tore into them. Riley traversed the turret and fired again and again. Zombies fell by the hundreds, either cut to pieces by the shells or shredded by Zack and his machine gun.

When they had run through the horde, Riley ordered the loader to give him a high-explosive round. He centered the computer's crosshairs on the fuel truck and fired the shell a split second later after it did the calculations. It streaked across the distance in less than two seconds and impacted directly in the center of the trailer. A fireball erupted and shot skyward while the shock wave from the blast knocked everything flat within a hundred yards. Streamers of flaming metal and chunks of zombies rained down where they'd been less than ten seconds ago. Cody could feel the heat on his face from where they sat.

Cody counted up the surviving zombies and whistled. A double handful were all that remained from the untold number that had set upon them. "Wow."

"Shit, that's nothing," Howard said from the driver's seat. "If we had just one of our Cobras flying with us, you wouldn't see anything bigger than a zombie McNugget laying out there."

Cody had the vague idea that a Cobra was some sort of helicopter. He'd ask Zack later to be sure but he was still impressed by the damage they'd dealt. The Marines dismounted and starting sniping the leftovers, dropping them like stones with a shot to the head. The situation now taken care of, the small group took off again, heading down the highway at a leisurely forty miles an hour.

They rode through the rest of the morning and early afternoon with little adventure before Cody saw the markings for the westbound highway they wanted. Riley pulled the tank to the side of the road and Cody and the Humvee stopped beside it.

"You're sure I can't talk you boys out of this?" he asked as they huddled in the middle of the road.

"I'm afraid not, Mr. Riley," Cody told him. "We've got to get to the farm."

"I thought you'd say that but I had to try. Be careful, okay? Promise me you'll stay safe and watch each other's backs."

"We do and we will," Zack said, shaking the man's hand. Cody shook it next and hugged Riley before he could stop himself.

"Sorry," he whispered.

"No problem, Cody. Stay safe." The twins said their goodbyes and gave their thanks and began walking after the sun. The four Marines stood and watched as they walked up the ramp and disappeared from sight.

"You think they're going to make it, boss?" Cook asked idly.

"I can't say for sure, but I sure wouldn't bet against them."

_First, if you clicked on the story and automatically went to the newest chapter, you might want to go back one since this was a double post. I've been wanting to do a double chapter for a while now and this seemed like a good time to do it after last chapter's psuedo-cliffhanger. _


	15. Chapter 15

Cody was sitting under a tree lazily sipping on an iced tea while Zack tossed a Frisbee back and forth with their parents. He leaned over and dug in the picnic basket for the egg salad sandwich he knew was in there but couldn't seem to find. He humphed and put the drink down and pulled the basket closer.

"Here comes a long one, Dad!" Cody heard Zack shout and looked up just in time to see his brother cock his arm back and fling the disc forward. It sailed far to the left, much farther than Zack had intended, much farther than his dad thought he could throw it, and Kurt started after it only to have to retrace his steps when it began a deep curve. He jumped and made a one-handed catch over his shoulder that would make any major league center fielder jealous. "Good catch, Dad!"

"Thanks, Zack. I didn't think I was going to get that one." Kurt gently tossed it over to Carey who then flipped it easily back to Zack.

"You sure you don't want to play, too, Cody? We'll throw it to you so you don't have to chase it around on your ankle."

"Yeah, come on, Cody," Zack called to him. "This is your picnic day, too!" Cody could see his brother's jack-'o-lantern smile and wanted to get up.

"No, I'm okay," he called back just as he found his sandwich. White bread with the crust removed and cut diagonally. Just the way he liked it. He looked out at his mother and smiled.

"Suit yourself, honey. There's some children's Tylenol in the basket if you need it." Carey turned her attention back to her husband and son as the disc flew between them.

"I don't need it," Cody said to himself as he looked down at his heavily wrapped ankle. "It doesn't hurt that bad." He lifted his foot and crossed it over the other and grimaced. "Stupid foot." He'd twisted his ankle the day before when his foot slipped off the side of their patio step. He'd gone down in a heap and screamed bloody murder. An emergency room trip, one negative x-ray and a large elastic bandage later, he was okay.

Zack flung the Frisbee as Cody took a bite and he laughed when it sailed over his father's head and down a hill, out of sight. He was studying the sandwich and didn't see his father return. "Kurt? Kurt? Are you okay?" he heard his mother ask. He looked up and she was crouched over him a few dozen feet away.

"Dad? What's wrong?" Cody asked as he hobbled to his feet. He couldn't see much from his angle but he was all but positive that most of his father's shirt was now red instead of the white it was earlier that morning. "Dad?" Zack screamed as their mother looked up, her eyes glazed over and skin suddenly a mottled grey. Cody tried to yell when he saw the jagged hole on the side of her neck but the sound caught in his throat. He dropped his sandwich in the soft grass.

Carey was halfway to him when he finally got his frozen muscles to respond. He turned on his good heel and started limping away as fast as he could but it wasn't working. He seemed to be stuck fast and she kept coming. "Mom! No! Mom!" Cody's throat finally opened and he let loose with a scream that split the heavens as her dead fingers wrapped around his shoulders.

Zack, who had been sleeping beside his brother in a borrowed bed, was instantly awake with gun in hand after the first half-second of Cody's yell. He slammed a hand on their battery lantern's _on _switch and the room was bathed in cool light. Cody was sitting straight up in bed with a look of abject terror on his face.

"Cody, wake up, Cody. Come on, wake up," he said as he slid the gun back under his pillow and sat up beside him. He wrapped his arms around Cody and pulled him tight, one hand gently patting his back as he slowly woke up. "It was just a dream. Wake up now."

After the longest five seconds in the world, Cody's eyes opened and he looked around the room. He put his hands on Zack's shoulders and stared him dead in the eyes. The waking world sunk in and the dream faded away. Cody put his head back on Zack's shoulder. "I had it again," he said softly as he wiped his eyes with the back of a hand.

"The picnic dream?"

"Yeah." Zack swallowed a sigh. This was the fourth night in a row that Cody had woken up screaming. "Sorry, Zack."

"It's okay, buddy," Zack told him as Cody broke the embrace. Zack slid off the side of the bed and walked to the window of their small room and peeked out through the curtains. Nothing looked out of the ordinary and he let the fabric fall back into place. He stretched and checked his watch with a silent groan. _Well, at least he waited until almost five in the morning to have it this time_. Zack yawned while he pondered whether to try to go back to sleep or simply stay up. Up, he decided.

Cody buried himself under the covers while Zack sat in one of the mildly comfortable hotel chairs and tied his shoes. It had been four days since they'd left the Marines and they were still creeping their way through the mountains of West Virginia. He couldn't wait until they got out onto flat ground and put all the roadblocks and blown bridges behind them.

They'd found cars by the dozen here but could never drive them for more than a few miles before they'd come upon some obstacle and have to get out and walk again. He fondly remembered the Camaro they'd had for all of five minutes. Canary yellow with black seats and a sun roof and more horses under the hood than he thought possible. It was probably still sitting at the foot of a deckless bridge with the doors wide open and keys in the ignition. "I liked that car," he said quietly.

They'd had to climb down several thousand feet and cross a river that day, something that Zack did not remember fondly. It had taken the better part of the afternoon and the delay put their daily distance somewhere right around five miles. He rolled his shoulders to loosen them as he walked to the hotel room door. No point in worrying about it now, he told himself. Another day of mostly uninterrupted travel would most likely put them out of this hilly backwater and onto flat ground again. "Or so I hope," Zack said as he closed the door behind himself.

He toured the hallways of the hotel, checking open doors when he found them, until he found what he was looking for. Zack stood before a small alcove with _vending machines _stenciled above it. His hand immediately went to his pocket and started digging for change before he could stop it. He grinned a wry grin and pulled it out and took a step back. Two seconds later his foot was shattering the thin glass of the machine and hundreds of candy bars stood ready for the picking.

"_Oh yes, Zack, everyone knows that two Snickers bars are the cornerstone of any nutritious breakfast," _he heard his mother's sarcastic tone in his head as he unwrapped the first bar. "Quiet, Mom. A growing boy needs his calories," he said as he inhaled it and let the wrapper drift away. And he did. Badly. Before zombies showed up, Zack had been weighing in somewhere between one-fifty and one-sixty but all the extra pounds had melted away over the last few weeks. According to the scale they'd found the day before, Zack now weighed in at a whopping one-twenty-six.

"It's the Apocalypse Diet," he said wryly as he unwrapped the second bar. "I need to market it if we ever get back to normal. I'd make a fortune." Zack grabbed a few extra bars and reached back in to grab some Milky Ways for his brother. Zack hated them but for whatever reason Cody loved the disgusting things. Pockets full, he started walking back to their room.

Zack settled on the end of his bed and started cleaning their assortments of guns. He didn't know every last thing about them but knew enough that he needed to keep the parts in top shape if he expected them to perform perfectly each time he pulled the trigger. He'd taken their pistols apart and reassembled them after giving them the works and had moved on to their shotguns when Cody finally woke up.

"Hey," he said.

"Morning," Cody replied.

"No nightmares this time?"

"No, thankfully. Though, it might have been better if I did," Cody said as he sat up against the headboard.

"Oh? How's that?" Zack couldn't think of a reason why waking up everyone in a two-mile radius with your screams could possibly be a good thing.

"I had a dream about Bob being a bikini model."

"Wow. I really don't know what to say about that," Zack told him as he began loading shells back into the shotgun. "Just wow."

"Yeah, it was weird."

"I bet it was."

"He wasn't a very good model," Cody continued.

"Shocking. Absolutely shocking," Zack said with a grin, struggling to keep the image from forming in his mind. He finished loading the shotgun and moved on to the pistol clips.

"Those look like different bullets than you used before," Cody said as he leaned forward and picked one up.

"They are. They're hollow-points."

"What's the difference?" Cody spun the bullet around between his fingers, taking note of the open space at the front of the slug.

"They're better zombie killers. In theory, at least," Zack answered. "They hit you and mushroom inside your body. They probably won't be quite as effective against a zombie as they would against a normal person but I think they'll give us an extra punch."

"How come I haven't seen any before?"

"I've been hoping we'd come across some since we left the hotel but a lot of places ban them."

"Zack? How do you know all this stuff?" Cody asked earnestly. "I mean...I don't think I ever heard you talk about a gun at all before this happened but you just took all ours apart and put them back together."

"Remember how I told you that you should check out my Google history? It's one of those things that went along with my zombie planning, Cody. I never mentioned it because I thought you and Mom would think I was going to shoot up the school or something. Or you'd make fun of me. Kind of like I do you and your cooking and your studying and your-"

"I got it," Cody said with a wry grin. He rolled out of bed and went to take care of business in the hotel's bathroom, walking slowly across the faded carpet. He returned a few minutes later and sat down beside his brother, pulling the blankets around his shoulders and pooling the edges in his lap. "Have you ever thought about what we're going to do when we get to the farm?"

Zack looked up from his pile of bullets and thought before he spoke. "Yeah, we're going to either find Mom there waiting for us or wait for her to show up."

"I mean after that."

"No, not really," Zack admitted.

"I've been trying to figure out if we can really stay there or not."

"Why couldn't we?"

"A couple of reasons. The weather, for one. You remember how cold it gets out there in the winter, right?"

"Terribly cold. But her house has a fireplace."

"Yeah, but she bought her firewood. Not a whole lot of trees out that way. Not all that many people out that way, either. We'd have to loot every house and store in at least a fifty mile radius to stockpile enough to last the winter."

"I take it that you have an idea?" Zack asked as he started feeding bullets into a clip again.

"I'm working on one but it won't work on a farm."

"How about you give me the short version, Cody?"

"Okay, long story short, there was a show on one of the smart channels where a group of people were dumped in an abandoned city and told to recreate civilization. They did a bunch of stuff that I bet I could copy."

"Cities aren't empty in our world, buddy."

"I know, but I bet it would work."

"Tell you what, you keep thinking about it and tell me when you've got it all worked out."

"I can do that," Cody said, a bit relieved and proud that Zack didn't dismiss his idea out of hand. There was still a lot to work through in his mind but he knew he could do it.

"In the mean time, why don't we get a move on? We can be out of the mountains and back on flat ground in a few hours if things go our way."

They did get a move on and things did go their way. Zack was behind the wheel of an late-model Pontiac and Cody was curled up in the passenger's seat fast asleep. Cody was leaning against the door with his knees brought up to his chest and Zack swore his brother was shivering even though the air conditioning was set on low. Zack grumbled low in his throat when he reached a hand over and put it on Cody's forehead.

"He's burning up," Zack said to himself. "Shit. Shit shit shit." He kept driving but glanced over every few minutes whenever Cody changed his position. When he saw Cody was on the verge of waking up, he pulled the car to the side of the road and put it in park.

"How are you feeling, Cody?" Zack asked when his brother's eyes slowly came open.

"I feel like ten pounds of crap in a five pound bag."

"You were sweating while you were sleeping earlier," Zack told him. "I'm going to ask you a question and I want an honest answer, okay?" Cody nodded. "How's your leg?"

"Asleep, thanks for asking," Cody told him as he shifted position and stretched it out.

"Not what I meant."

"It's not infected if that's what you're thinking. I've cleaned it as well as I could whenever we've stopped and it looks like it's almost completely healed. I'm going to have to pull the stitches out in a day or two."

"You're sure?"

"I promise, Zack. I'll show you if you want. I've just caught a bug."

"I believe you. When did you start feeling bad?"

"Last night, about an hour or so before we stopped. If it matters, I felt like twenty pounds of crap in a five pound bag then."

"Should we call it off for the day? Being sick isn't like it used to be."

"No, I'm okay. I wouldn't mind if we stopped somewhere so I can find some aspirin or something, though. I'd feel a ton better if I could knock this fever down."

"We can do that. You go back to sleep and I'll wake you up when we come to a town that's more than just a wide spot in the road." Zack started the car back up and pulled back onto the highway. Cody was asleep again before the odometer rolled over once.

As Zack drove, he felt his body unwind. He'd been scared, much more scared than he wanted to admit, when Cody admitted to feeling sick. He could shoot a zombie in the face but he couldn't do anything to a microscopic virus. He ran a hand through his hair and shivered a bit himself when he wondered if whatever made someone into a zombie was now floating through the air. "No. We would have both caught it by now. I think. Hope," he said quietly after a long consideration. Zack settled back in and wished this car had cruise control.

Zack had just crossed over the river into Kentucky and was a little disappointed that the Appalachians didn't abruptly end once he changed states but the need to stop and stretch his legs won out. Zack had been driving for almost four hours and it was time for a break. He pulled off the interstate and drove to the nearest small town.

"Hey, Cody. Wake up. It's time for lunch," he said as he shook his brother's shoulder. Cody twisted and moaned before coming fully awake. "Feeling better?"

"Better than this morning, yes. Completely better? Not yet, but I'm getting there. Eight pounds or so."

"You're not covered in sweat like you were earlier. That's probably a good sign, right?" Zack steered the car into a drug store's parking lot and turned it off. He spun the keys around his fingers and slid them into a pocket. Cody still hadn't moved. "What's the matter?" he asked.

"I don't think I'm hungry."

"Well you can watch me eat, then. And maybe we'll find you some aspirin in here." Zack gestured to the building beside them.

"I hate feeling like this," Cody told him as he began to pour himself out of the car. Once on his feet, he walked around the lot while Zack watered a nearby car. He began to feel more like himself as he strolled, enjoying the warm sun on his face. Cody yawned and stretched and shook the fatigue out of his arms.

Zack finished his business and the two boys walked around the building's perimeter to ensure there weren't any unexpected surprises waiting to take a bite out of them. Cody pulled his pistol as they returned to the front door. He took one side and Zack took the other and on a silent three count, ducked into the building like a SWAT team, Cody covering one direction while Zack had the other.

They listened for any kind of sound, be it a footfall, the rustle of paper, or the crunch of broken glass, but heard nothing. They advanced into the building and began looking around. This store, unlike most of the others they'd been in, hadn't been heavily looted. Aside from a shattered pane of glass in the front door and a few items scattered on the floor here and there, it looked almost untouched. The twins walked across the front of the store and checked down every last aisle.

"I think we're good here," Zack said softly.

"Yep," Cody replied. "Let's see what we can find."

Zack grabbed a hand-held basket and started walking the aisles, randomly dropping things into it. Cody headed straight to the pain relievers and picked two bottles off the shelf. One went into a cargo pocket and he opened the other, dry swallowing two of the pills and then adding a third after he tossed the cotton packing to the floor. He started heading over toward his brother but stopped when his eyes saw _Pharmacy _stenciled above a window on the back wall.

"Just in case," he said to himself, a hand running over the slowly healing line of stitches on his leg through his shorts. Cody walked to the door that separated the space behind the wall from the rest of the store and tried to turn it. He expected it to be locked but it wasn't. He pushed on it gently and then toed it open.

As he looked at the shelves lined with oversized bottles, Cody whistled. The pills in this small room were more valuable than gold now, as dangerous than plutonium if used improperly. Cody walked down one row and saw nothing but names like _Polymyxin_ _B_ and _Trimethoprim_ and sighed. "Just plain old penicillin or something like that would be nice," he said as he switched rows. This time he came across names he was more familiar with. A large bottle of Erythromicin and a smaller bottle of Tetracycline went into his pocket.

Cody was searching for a dosage book when he got the sudden feeling that he was being watched. He looked up and out the window and surveyed the store but didn't see anything. Cody eased the pistol out of his pocket and stole to the door. He stuck his head out and took a few steps into the store but only heard his brother mumbling to himself at the far wall.

"Zack?" he called.

"Huh? What?" Zack replied.

Cody was peering through a shelf of boxed tissue, trying to see through the pegboard into the next aisle, when a pair of brown eyes met his. "Shit!" Cody yelled as he jumped back, any idea of telling Zack they weren't alone were gone in his sudden panic. One foot tripped over the other and he went falling to the tile. He landed squarely on his ass and slid a few inches before yanking the gun and training it on the end of the aisle. He nearly pulled the trigger when he saw a pair of legs step around the corner but stayed his hand at the last possible second when he saw he was looking at a dirty boy no more than ten years old in ragged jeans and a red tank tap.

"Jeez, kid. You almost got yourself shot," Cody said, barely hearing himself over his hammering heart. About that time, Zack came dashing to his side, gun drawn and ready. Cody put the gun down and tried to hide his shaking fingers.

"What's your name, kid?" Zack asked as he made his pistol disappear.

"Anthony," the boy told them as he studied the twins. "What's yours?"

"I'm Cody and this is my brother Zack. What are you doing here, Anthony?" Cody queried as he got back to his feet.

"I saw you two come in and followed you. You're the first people I've seen in a long time," the boy answered as he started unwrapping a candy bar. The twins watched him devour it in three bites.

"You need to make a little noise next time," Zack told him.

"I wanted to make sure you two weren't freaks before I did. I didn't expect your brother to come out of the little room as fast as he did. I guess I'm not as quiet as I thought."

"Quiet enough, kid," Zack said. "I didn't hear you at all."

"I just felt like someone was staring at me. I didn't hear you either," Cody admitted. "Luck, I guess."

"We're not freaks, by the way," Zack added.

"Are you all by yourself, Anthony?" Cody asked as he dusted himself off.

"I am. I haven't seen anyone else but the zombies in two weeks. My mom got chomped when a zombie busted in our house and I ran." They could tell that the boy was trying to be brave about his mother's fate but neither commented on it.

"You must be one brave boy to make it this long by yourself."

"Nah, not brave. Just smart. They're easy to run from as long as you hear them coming."

"That's true," Cody admitted. "Have you seen many of them around here in the last few days?"

"Not many today but they seem to come and go. Yesterday, they were everywhere. The day before, too. I'm glad you didn't come yesterday because I would have still been in the attic hiding," he said, his eyes instinctively drifting to the front door.

"Why don't you come outside with us and we'll eat lunch. It's not a hamburger and fries but it'll be better than a candy bar," he said to the boy. Anthony answered with a nod and a shrug.

Cody and his new shadow left the store and Zack followed a short distance behind them. Zack wandered off and stood under a nearby tree, clearly waiting for Cody, while Cody put together a quick lunch for their guest on the back of their car. "You go ahead and dig in, Anthony. I need to go talk to Zack for a few minutes."

"Okay," Anthony told him as he started eating. He watched as Cody walked over to his brother but lost interest once he realized he couldn't hear their intentionally low conversation.

"No," Zack said, shaking his head as soon as Cody arrived. "He's not coming with us."

"What? Why not?" Cody asked incredulously, his arms wide.

"We're having enough problems taking care of ourselves."

"That's crap and you know it, Zack."

"It is _not_. We're eating fucking Spam and crackers because we can't find anything else. I might not know much about eating healthy but I know that's not good for a little boy."

"It's not, but I guarantee you it'll be better than what he's been eating since he fled his house. If he's had anything but candy bars and soda I'll eat my shoe, Zack. When I was making him lunch a minute ago I could clearly see each of his ribs through the side of his shirt. It looked like skin stretched taut over a xylophone."

"No."

"We have to help him."

"Bullshit we do."

"What the _hell, _Zack? Really? That's heartless. He's a little kid for crying out loud! I figured you'd be on board with it right away. Why?"

"I just am."

"You're going to have to give me a better answer than that or you can just get back in the car and drive the fuck off and I'll take him myself." Cody was absolutely livid.

Zack went silent and stared out into the distance before he answered. He'd taken long enough that Cody was about two seconds away from walking off and getting his stuff out of the car. "Okay, I'm going to give it to you straight, Cody. It's like this. I've spent just about every waking moment since we left the hotel trying to figure out how to keep the two of us alive. I promised myself that I'd get us out to Aunt Jolene's farm no matter what. It's been rough and there's been a few times when I didn't think we were going to make it. But we did. The two of us. Two reasonably fit and healthy teenagers.

"If there's someone else, a little kid, for example, who's to say that it won't completely change things? What if, this is going to sound selfish but it's how I see it, what if it came down to choosing between him and you? Or him and me? Could you do it? Could you choose one of us to die? I know I could if it came down to you and me. I'd die for you in a second. A heartbeat. But add some little booger eater in the mix and I don't know."

"I'd die first," Cody replied.

"That's a cop-out answer and you know it."

"I think we were meant to find him. To help him."

"What? Are you a Jedi now or something? Is that why you're acting all noble?"

"No, I'm just acting like a human being who isn't so engrossed with himself and what he's doing that he forgets that there's other people left in this world." The words exploded off his tongue and he was satisfied with the sting he saw in Zack's eyes.

"Zack, look," Cody softened his tone now that he'd gotten through. "You don't have to carry the burden all by yourself. I can help. You've done a great job getting us this far. No one would or could deny that. You don't have to be scared to fail." Zack vehemently denied he was scared but he knew was losing the argument. Cody's words struck home with him harder than he would have ever expected. He had been driving them the whole way, putting the weight of the world on his shoulders, and his brother was equally capable. Chewbacca to his Han to borrow some of Cody's favorite characters.

"What if he's been bitten?" Zack asked.

"I'll check."

"He does seem like a smart kid."

"I think so."

"And he probably doesn't eat that much."

"Probably not."

"He needs a bath."

"So do we."

"You know I hate it when you do this, right?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

"You knew I'd cave on this the whole time, didn't you?"

"I didn't, but I had a feeling. I didn't expect you to be so against it, really."

Zack squatted and then sat down Indian style. "I'll never admit this to anyone but you, Cody, but you're right. I am scared. Of failing. Of letting you down. Letting myself down. Terrified of it. I've looked at this entire trip as my responsibility and it's been hard enough getting the two of us this far. Adding another apple to the cart might make it even harder."

Cody was amazed at his brother's candidness. "I've been scared since day one of this, Zack. You've been here for me, though. I'm here for you, too. Don't forget that."

"What if we screw up and something happens to him?" Zack asked, his voice not entirely steady. That was the crux of his resistance and Zack felt better the second it was exposed to the open air.

"It's possible, but we just have to try and make sure it doesn't." Cody sat down next to his brother. "We're not perfect. No parents are. We just have to do our best and watch out for each other."

"Parents?" Zack laughed, "Cody, you are the only guy I know that would willingly take on a kid without any of the fun that comes with making one."

"I guess I could have chosen a better word."

"No, it kind of fits. Why don't you go back over there and check on our new partner, Cody? Give me a little while to get my head straight."

"Will do. Remember what I said, Zack. Don't be scared. You aren't alone."

"Gotcha," Zack said as Cody walked back to the car. He sighed, leaning back against the tree as he looked over at Cody and Anthony. Cody was right but it was going to complicate things one way or the other. He let out a long, slow breath.

"He doesn't want me to go with you two, does he?" Anthony asked as soon as Cody got to the car.

"Huh?"

"Your brother. He doesn't want me to come."

"How do you figure that, Anthony?"

"I could tell by the way he was acting when you walked over there. That's okay. I can take care of myself." Anthony stood up straight, all four-foot-two of him, and tried to put on a tough front.

"You're a smart kid. He wasn't wild about the idea at first but he's okay with it now. If you want to, that is. We never even asked you."

"I don't want to cause problems between you two."

"You won't."

"You're sure?" Anthony gave him a very studious look.

"Promise. Are you in?"

"I'm in."

"Good. I have to ask one thing, though. You haven't been bitten, have you?"

"Nope," Anthony said as he lifted up his shirt and turned around. Cody bit back a wince as he saw how skinny the boy really was. Fifty-five pounds soaking wet. Probably closer to fifty. "Want me to take my pants off?"

"Not until we get you some new ones. I believe you." Cody had already looked at the boy's pants and found they were blood free. Dirty enough to not have been changed any time recently but blood free. "Is there anything you want to get from your hiding place?"

"Just a few little things. It's just around the corner." Cody nodded as the boy pointed.

"Hey Zack," Cody called, "I'm going to walk Anthony over to his place and grab a few things. You coming?"

"You two go ahead. I'm going to grab some stuff from the store and load up the car while you're gone." Cody didn't like that answer and Zack could read it on his face from twenty feet away. "If I need you, trust me, you'll hear the gunshots."

"He doesn't like me," Anthony said as they walked across the parking lot.

"He does. Zack is...Sometimes he's...He's hard to explain." The two boys crossed the street and walked half a block before Anthony stopped them in front of a white shuttered house.

"Be careful and follow me. I made some traps to slow the zombies down." Cody nodded and walked behind the boy, careful to avoid the sheets of plywood with nine inch nails driven through them that littered the front yard. He was impressed since neither he nor Zack had thought of that. The front porch was filled with as much clutter in front of the door as a small kid could manage to move. Three gas grills, four bikes, and half dozen car tires took up just about every inch of space.

They walked around the side of the house, dodging more nails, and came around to the back yard. Yet more nails and junk blocking the door. Cody was beginning to wonder how Anthony could possibly get in the house when he saw the boy climb a shed and jump to a wrap-around balcony. Cody was impressed again as he duplicated the boy's moves. He might be young and slight but he was far from dumb.

Once inside, Cody looked around while Anthony picked up his few belongings. "The only thing I really want is this picture of my Mom," he said as he showed Cody a picture of Anthony being hugged from behind. He didn't know what to say and just nodded as the boy slipped it into a small bag. "It was taken about a week before the zombies showed up. We were at my cousins' house for a pool party," Anthony told him.

"I'm sorry, Anthony." Cody put an arm on his shoulder.

"Thanks. I still miss her." He grabbed a few more things and they were finished within a minute. Cody stood on the balcony while Anthony jumped to the shed and climbed down. He was about to jump across when he heard the gunshot.

"I knew this was a bad idea! Damn it!" He leaped across and hopped down and pulled the pistol from his pocket, instantly wishing he had more than just that. Anthony's eyes were wide as they raced through the makeshift minefield and back to the store. They heard Zack yelling profanities between roars from a shotgun. A trail of splintered zombies and spent shell casings greeted them as they rounded the corner.

"Cody! Come on, it's time to fucking _go_! Oh no you don't, you ugly zombie motherfucker!" His shotgun coughed and a zombie fell apart.

"Here we come, Zack!" Cody shouted back.

"The keys are on the hood. I'll lead these assholes away and you get the car started and pick me up," Zack shouted just before another series of blasts rang out.

Cody dashed, Anthony right on his heels, into the parking lot. Zack had managed to get the vast majority of the zombies to follow him toward the back of the store but there were still a handful wandering around the lot near the car. Cody slowed his approach and took steady aim, sidestepping as the zombies moved in on him.

"Stay behind me," he ordered, and moved the boy to his back, keeping his body on one side and the car on the other between any zombies and Anthony.

"Yeah, no problem," Anthony answered, his voice quavering slightly. One of his hands was on Cody's waist and the other in the middle of his back and there was barely an inch of space between their bodies.

His pistol rang out, sounding like a toy compared to Zack's shotgun, and two of the zombies dropped immediately. "Backseat," Cody said as they backed up to the car. Anthony pulled the door open and dove in. Cody bumped the door closed with his hip and circled to his right and dropped two more. The last one seemed to reconsider its attack for a second before lunging in and Cody missed his first shot before decapitating it with his second. He snatched the keys from the hood and threw himself in the car.

Engine growling, Cody slammed it into gear and peeled out, chasing after his brother. Zack saw him coming and pointed to a spot a few yards behind him. His shotgun yelled again and one zombie fell and another lost an arm. Cody pulled into the designated spot and opened the door and Zack hopped in after one more shot.

"Go go go!" he said as he closed the door. Cody floored it and the car sped away and the three of them began to calm down. "Before you say it, I was stupid a few minutes ago."

"I wasn't going to say it but I was thinking it," Cody admitted it. "You broke your own first rule."

"Not happening again, I promise." Zack shifted around in the seat and pulled on his seat belt. "Those things came out of nowhere."

"So you're over...everything from before?" Cody asked him, carefully phrasing his words.

"Yeah. Zombies have an amazing ability to put things into focus." He looked into the backseat at Anthony. "Welcome to the family, kid."

_I didn't think this would take anywhere near as long to get done as it did. Between only having time to write a few paragraphs at a stretch and debating on whether or not to include Anthony in the chapter, almost two weeks went by before I knew it. I was hoping to get the story finished before my vacation but now I'm not so sure that's going to happen. Anyway, thanks for reading._


	16. Chapter 16

Carey came back to consciousness in fits and starts. One eye peeked open and looked out the window and saw the moon hanging behind a hazy curtain. She groaned and closed it and drifted back out again. After a handful of false starts, one eye and then the other opened and remained open. The outside world still had a glassy quality to it but that began to fade as she blinked.

"What the hell happened?" Carey asked as she experimentally turned her head and found that it was still attached, albeit painfully. Her head was pounding like the worst migraine she could imagine. She flinched and held it still and peered out of the corner of her eyes. She was in a car, one that she had apparently totaled. That wasn't going to do her insurance any good. "I'm going to have to pay that damn gecko more now. Great." The longer she sat, the more details of the previous day began to filter back in. "Never mind," she said, "I'm not paying that lizard a damn thing," as fragments of the wreck fell into place in her mind. She was both relieved and saddened as it all came back.

An indeterminate amount of time later, Carey was able to move enough to start working her way out of the wrecked car. Her hips felt like they were filled with broken glass as she swung her legs out and put her feet on the ground. She froze in place when she tried to sit up and pain whirled through her body, seconds away from either vomiting or passing out. The feeling finally passed and she was able to inch her way to standing. "Shit I hurt," she mumbled as she put her hands on the car's roof and waited for another round of nausea to pass.

Carey smelled gas. She turned her body instead of her head and saw that the back of the car was nearly turned inside out and red gas cans were strewn all around the wreck. She glanced down out of the bottom of her eyes and saw that she was standing in a puddle. "Well. This is not good news." She gingerly bent back into the car and slowly began pulling her few possessions out of the car. She was rather certain that she wasn't in any immediate danger of combusting but she didn't want to take any chances.

Carey slung her bag over one shoulder and carried the shotgun as she slowly trudged away from the car and back up the soft slope to the roadbed. She snapped her head up and around at the sound of an owl and her vision swam. She dropped to one knee and waited for it to pass. Deep, slow breaths and promises to not do that again were her mantra as she began to clear her head.

"Yeah, I'll go on and say it right now," she said to the empty road, "I'm hurt, pretty sure I have a concussion, but I dare any zombie to come out here right now and try me. I dare you." Carey waited with the shotgun at her hip but no shambling carcass took her up on her offer so she started putting one foot in front of the other. "Any other time you bitches would come out of the woodwork."

Carey vaguely remembered stumbling along the highway when she awoke the next morning. There was a supreme moment of disconnect as she tried to remember how she came to be sleeping on a rather uncomfortable wicker couch on a screened-in porch. She rubbed her eyes and was thankful that it didn't hurt as bad as it did the night before. It still hurt, but it was manageable. Barely.

"First order of business," she said as she stood up, "is to find some damn Tylenol." She stretched and worked out most of the kinks in her back. "Second order of business is to figure out where the hell I am." Carey let herself in with the butt of her shotgun and searched the house for some pain relievers. She saw a coffee maker sitting on the kitchen counter and gave it a glare.

"I'd give three of my toes for a working machine and some fresh roasted beans," she said as she walked past it. Carey opened the refrigerator in hopes of finding some sort of caffeine inside and smiled when she found two bottles of Diet Coke sitting on a shelf. "Not cold but it will do." Carey set one bottle on the counter and unscrewed the other. She took a swig and imagined she could feel the caffeine racing through her body and waking up her brain.

Carey discovered a treasure trove of pain relievers in an upstairs bathroom and chased four ibuprofens with her Coke. She spent the next hour or so lounging around and waiting for the medicine to kick in, paging through old magazines and a photo album she found sitting on a shelf. They finally started working and she was able to stand up and move around without feeling like she'd just been in a very one-sided fight with a young Mike Tyson.

The car she found in the garage was nowhere near as nice as the Charger, clearly a grocery-getter and kid taxi with nearly as many dents and dings as miles, but it started up right away. Carey put the Nissan into drive and pulled out into the street. "Okay, Carey, let's see if we can not wreck this car like you did the pretty one," she told herself and snorted. Carey goosed the accelerator and the car sped away.

If the clock on the car's dashboard was right, she'd been driving for about half an hour and, according to a road sign, was another hour's drive away from Cincinnati. Carey breasted a hill and started down the back slope when she saw a figure walking on the side of the road in the distance. She braked to almost a crawl and watched the form walk in slow, regular steps and decided that it wasn't a zombie. As she crept closer, Carey saw that it was a woman and she appeared to be carrying something. "A kid, maybe?" Carey said to herself.

She moved up beside the woman and lowered the passenger window. The woman was still staring straight ahead and so far either hadn't noticed her or was ignoring her. Not smart either way. "Hey?" she called out. "Hey, are you okay? Need a ride?"

The woman finally turned her head and looked at Carey. _Shell-shock, _Carey thought as she saw her eyes. They were wide open but as empty as they could be. "Oh...hello," the woman said softly.

"Hi," Carey replied, "I'm heading to Cincy, care for a lift? Is your kid okay?" Carey noticed the kid, a girl if she was right, was pale and the hair that poked out from under a bed sheet was dirty.

"She is...hurt. Sick. Has a fever."

_Probably because it's already over ninety degrees and you have her wrapped up in a blanket, _Carey thought to herself. "Well, I don't know where you're heading but I can take you at least as far as Cincinnati if you want."

"Yes. I would like that. We would like that. It would be nice."

Carey stopped the car and hit the button to unlock the doors. As the woman went to the rear door, Carey moved her shotgun from the passenger seat and put it along the base of her door on the floorboard, out of sight and the way but still in easy reach if they came upon anyone that needed to be shot.

"Thank you," the woman said, looking from the back seat as she laid her daughter across the faded fabric.

"You're welcome. I couldn't just drive past and leave you two alone out here." Carey's eyes drifted to the little girl, somewhere around five, maybe six at the most. Her breaths were shallow and her skin seemed even paler than it had moments before.

"Thank you. We have been walking for, I do not know what day it is. A day at least."

"Just sit back and enjoy the ride," Carey told her as the woman settled into the front seat and took a few seconds to fasten her seat belt. "I'm Carey, by the way."

"I'm Helen. My daughter Samantha is laying in the back."

"Pleased to meet you." Carey pulled away from the shoulder and concentrated on the road and the occasional weaving through abandoned vehicles. The further she drove, the more she couldn't help but think about her passenger.

Helen was around her age, maybe a handful of years older, but was wearing a dress that instantly reminded Carey of something her grandmother would have worn when Carey was still in the single digits. Frilly, high-collared, long sleeved, and completely out of place for someone trying to get around in an apocalyptic world in the summer. And an apron over it. _An apron? _Her voice was...stilted. Off. Old fashioned and stiff. Carey explained most of that away by the vacant look in the woman's eyes and what she must have been through. _What did the Marines call it? Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder? Something like that._

"If you don't mind me asking," Carey said as the silence began to drift into uncomfortable territory, "what happened to your daughter? I'm not a nurse by any stretch of the imagination but I've raised twin boys and fought my way across half the country. I can try to help her if she needs it."

"Helen has a fever. We, she, must have caught something after we were attacked."

"She wasn't...she didn't get hurt by a zombie, did she?" Carey had just glanced in the rear view mirror and seen a small smudge of blood on the bed sheet. Her pulse quickened and her fingers tightened their grip on the steering wheel. She ignored the change in names, attributing it to stress.

"No, no. We escaped unhurt. She caught her leg on something, a nail, perhaps, as we were running through a cattle pasture. I wrapped it in a shirt."

"I have some pills in my little pack. Some antibiotics I picked up just for something like that. I think there's some aspirin in there, too. Might help knock down her fever."

"No thank you. I gave her some shortly before you stopped for us."

"Oh, okay then," Carey replied. She glanced over at Helen or Samantha or whatever her name might be. She had no supplies. No purse. No canteen. No food. And what kind of mother wouldn't want anything that could possibly aid her child? Even if she didn't take the pills right now, she could save them and save them for later.

Later. Because the further Carey drove, the surer she became that she would be parting ways with mother and daughter in Cincinnati. Something about the woman was incredibly disconcerting. It wasn't quite a case of the creeps, but the longer she sat there in near-silence and continued to stare blankly out the windshield, the closer it got. Carey glanced in the back seat when the little girl shifted.

"So how old is your daughter?" Carey asked, trying to draw the woman back from the verge of whatever breakdown she was teetering over.

"Samantha? She will be seven in just over a month," the woman said after a few seconds.

"That's a fun age. I think I liked my twins at that age the best."

"She is a very trying child."

"I can believe that. My boys were as headstrong as a mule when they were seven. I can't tell you how many times I wanted to pull my hair out."

"Yes." The woman returned to her empty staring.

_Okay, _Carey thought after the abrupt end to the conversation. The girl gave a hitching breath and seemed to finally settle into a relaxed sleep. _Maybe she did give the girl some medicine after all and it just took a while to kick in. _She shrugged and looked back to the road.

Carey drove on for another hour, the miles and repetitive scenery rolling past at a thirty mile per hour clip. She was mulling over ways to leave the pair in the city without resorting to telling the woman that she freaked Carey out. The girl was the sticking point in all her plans. Could she really leave an injured child in the care of someone that was obviously in the process of cracking up? Her stomach turned sour at the thought of it.

Cincinnati's skyline had just come into view when the girl began to move around again. Slowly at first, a skinny arm found its way out of the cover and worked to pull it off. Carey was about to tell her quiet passenger that her daughter seemed to be waking up when the sheet came off the girl's head and Carey screamed. The girl's skin had turned a mottled, ashen grey and Carey could see every vein, artery, and capillary under it with ease and her eyes had the unfocused gaze of the dead.

Carey slammed on the brakes as the little girl pulled herself from her shroud and tried to get to the front seat. The car slid sideways and Carey threw a desperate elbow to the girl's throat to knock her backwards in order to have enough time to stop the car and get out. The girl fell to the floorboard and was tangled up in her sheet just long enough for the car to come to a stop in a cloud of burnt rubber. She flung the door open and dove out, her trailing hand missing and then grasping the shotgun's strap as it went past.

Carey rolled across the ground, shotgun cradled to her chest. The girl was mostly out of the car by the time she got to her knees and Carey swore that the woman gave her a push to send her out into the dirt. The girl sprawled out but quickly picked herself up and advanced on Carey and was nearly upon her before she could get the gun raised.

_Click_. "Dammit," Carey swore as she rocked back out of the way of one of the girl's swipes. She butt stroked her in the head with the gun's stock and scrambled to her feet as the girl charged again. Carey flipped the safety off and pulled the trigger three times in rapid succession and the child fell apart, her thick and discolored blood pooling in the dirt and grass.

"What the fuck was that?" Carey asked hysterically as she wiped the gallon of sweat from her face.

"You killed my daughter," she heard and looked up from the body. At some point, Carey had no idea when, Helen or whoever had managed to get out of the car and was facing her across the roof. "You killed my daughter."

Carey stood up and glanced down to safe the weapon before it went off again in her shaking hands. When she looked up again, she saw that she was facing down the barrel of an overly large pistol. _It was in her apron, _her mind said just as the gun winked. Carey spun around and went five feet through the air when a sledgehammer blow hit her squarely in the chest. The shotgun flew from her hands as she crashed back to earth, half on and half off the pavement and everything went black.

"Oh...she killed you. She shot you," Carey heard when she woke up a short time later. It couldn't have been more than a few seconds as she saw the woman only beginning to kneel down to the mess that was her little girl. Every nerve in her body felt like it was on fire and it hurt to move her fingers. She tried to take a deep breath to steel herself to move but the pain was too much. She settled for a couple of short, shallow breaths and pulled her arms in to her sides, wincing the whole time.

Carey fumed as the realization that she'd been shot settled in. She snaked a hand under her chest and felt the tactical vest. She'd considered ditching it countless times over the last weeks but was glad she didn't when she felt the concave depression and the remains of the deformed bullet in the Kevlar. There was going to be one hell of a bruise, she knew, but she was alive.

Carey watched the woman croon over her dead zombie daughter while she tried to silently unzip the pockets on her vest. _There it is, _she said when her fingers felt the grip of the pistol she'd been given half a world ago. She slid it out and flicked the safety, determined to end this situation once and for all. One knee was pulled up and a hand put down and she pushed herself shakily to her feet. Carey stood watching the pair a few yards away from her.

"You...you should be dead. I shot you. Why are you not dead?" the woman said with the first emotion Carey had heard since they'd met.

"Ballistic plating, bitch," Carey said, tapping her chest.

"You killed my daughter."

"Yeah, I heard you the first time," Carey told her, already tired of that little mantra.

"Why did you kill my daughter?"

"Because you neglected to tell me that your daughter had been bitten by a zombie. That was kind of a major thing to mention."

"You killed my daughter," the woman repeated again and Carey rolled her eyes.

"Yes. I did. I killed your daughter because she was a fucking _zombie_ and she tried to _eat _me. Did you miss that little bit of the action while you were staring off into space?" Carey was standing with both hands on the pistol but kept the barrel pointed at the ground between them for the time being.

"She is dead. You killed her." Her hands moved around in her lap, seeming to be attempting to find a way into her apron but having gotten lost along the way.

"I did. I think we've already established that fact. And I'll go ahead and give you a little heads-up: if you don't get your hands away from that hand cannon you've got stashed away in your grandma's apron, I'll put a bullet between your eyes." Carey raised the gun. "And if you say I killed your daughter one more time I'll do it, too."

The woman had just opened her mouth and snapped it shut. Carey began to think that maybe she had finally cracked through the woman's shock and reached the normal person underneath. Her eyes had lost some of the idiot glaze and her hands were still. Maybe there was a chance to get out of this situation without further bloodshed.

"Okay," Carey said, lowering the gun back to the ground, "Now here's the deal. I am going to get my other gun and walk back to my car and stand by the door. You are going to get up, with or without the body, and start walking that way and not look back until you hear the car roar off." Carey pointed back over her shoulder to the way they came. "If you don't do it just like that, I'll shoot you. I don't want to do it but I've done it before and I'll do it again. Sound good?" the woman didn't answer. "I'll take that as a yes," Carey said as she started to the gun, not taking her eyes off the woman.

She was just starting to bend down to grab the Benelli, pistol still trained, and was in the process of telling the woman to get her ass in gear when Carey saw her lunge. There were ten feet between Carey and the girl's body and the woman had crossed half of them in a split second. A frown crossed Carey's lips as she refined her aim and pulled the trigger and gave the woman a third eye. The body fell and Carey shook her head.

"What the hell is wrong with people?" she shouted out to the countryside. Carey grabbed the shotgun, all the while mumbling about the idiocy of people lucky enough to survive the zombie outbreak. "That's the second dumb shit I've had to shoot because they weren't smart enough to walk away." She shook her head again and walked back to the car.

After putting the shotgun back across the passenger seat, she unstrapped the vest and laid it on the hood. It took a few minutes of experimental prodding before she managed to pull the plating out of the front of the vest for a closer examination.

"I was saved by this?" she asked as she held up a piece of fragmented ceramic. She had been expecting steel, not a high-tech dinner plate. She turned it over in her hands and tried to imagine how it could stop a bullet. Having no idea, she shrugged and chalked it up to science. Carey repacked the plate, doubting that it could stop another shot but still feeling better for having it in front of her. "I'll have to keep an eye out for a replacement," she said as she put the vest back on and put the pistol back in the side pocket.

Carey sat in the seat for a few minutes before she could put the car in gear. A hand slipped under the vest and rubbed the spot directly under where the vest had stopped the bullet. She could feel a massive bruise already forming and was both tempted and afraid to look at it in the mirror. She already knew it was going to be big, probably purple and ugly as well. "I'll save that surprise for later," she said as she finally put the car into drive.

Carey drove into Cincinnati a short while later and was intent on crossing the river and putting all of the bad memories of Ohio behind her as soon as she could. After weaving her way through cars, she finally made it to the river front and swore as she stopped the car a half mile from the bridge.

"Fuck," she said and pounded the steering wheel in frustration. From her vantage point, Carey could plainly see that most of the bridge was currently sitting in the middle of the Ohio River. "Yeah, looks like you sure saved your fair city by blowing the bridge, huh?" she mocked as she got out of the car and looked behind her at the ruined city. "Yeah, you did."

Carey sat on the hood and pondered her next move. She could backtrack and try to find another bridge. There were more, she knew, but she didn't know where or how far away they were. She sighed as she briefly considered swimming across and then her features lightened as she thought about a boat. Her eyes scanned the riverbank but saw nothing.

"No way. There's a boat down there somewhere," she said as she slid off the hood. "Someone has to have a house on the river with a boat tied up to a little pier." Set, Carey gathered her gear and left the highway, making slow but steady progress down toward the river through a maze of side streets and alleys, doing her best to avoid the small groups of zombies she encountered and blasting her way through those she couldn't. She took a break after an hour to rehydrate and eat a pack of crackers.

As she sat and drank, Carey realized that her body was stiffening up and becoming incredibly sore. She groaned and pushed herself up from the bench and got moving again before she couldn't. While she was walking, she took a handful of painkillers and hoped they'd work quick enough and last long enough to let her keep going until she found a boat.

"Swimming is looking better all the time," Carey said as she passed another quarter mile with no luck, shaking her head as the sudden thought that there would have been a boat a few feet into her journey had she gone the other way crossed her mind. "Yeah, that's probably how it is. A thirty foot booze cruiser with a pilot wearing tight pants and muscle-bound bartenders wearing only bow ties. Right, Carey."

Carey finally found a boat after what seemed like an entire day's worth of searching. It was far from a yacht, being a raggedy old fishing boat with leaves plastered to the floor and an engine that looked at least as old as she was. She gave the engine a try and sighed with relief when it sputtered to life. She lowered her gear into the boat and sat down before untying the line and heading out into the water.

Northern Kentucky loomed in her view as she steered the boat across the river. Her arm ached and the closer she got, the surer she was that this was about as far as she'd be going today. Somewhere on the other side there was a nice couch with her name written on it and she couldn't get there fast enough.

_Sorry guys...this took forever to get done. I'd sit down to write and get distracted by either the NBA or Stanley Cup playoffs just about every time. So much for my hopes of getting three chapters done before I go on vacation. There might be a short chapter before then but the next update probably won't happen until I get back at the beginning of July. Anyway, I'd like to take a second to thank all the reviewers for their words. I haven't written back in a chapter or two but I've read them. Thanks!_


	17. Chapter 17

"I'd just like to say that I was right all along," Zack said as they sped through Lexington.

"Care to illuminate the rest of us as to what you were right about?" Cody asked after shrugging his shoulders to show Anthony that he had no idea what his brother was talking about either.

"I said that UK would never win a title with coach Cal and his one-and-dones," Zack announced proudly, putting his arms behind his head and looking smug.

Cody shook his head and tried not to grin as he drove. Yes, there was the old Zack with his black humor again. Cody didn't remember Zack saying any such thing, and wasn't sure what sport he was even talking about, but that didn't matter since he normally tuned his brother out whenever he went on one of his sports rants. He probably did say it, Cody admitted to himself.

"You aren't a Kentucky fan, are you, kid?" Zack asked, turning around and looking into the back seat.

"Uh, no," Anthony answered awkwardly.

"That's good. Because you'd probably have to ride in the trunk and-"

"Anyway," Cody interrupted, sparing the poor kid from more of Zack's cross examination.

"What? I wasn't really going to make him ride in the trunk," Zack said innocently.

The three continued heading west, weaving their way through abandoned cars as they passed horse farms, rolling green hills, and never to be finished road construction. Cody checked the gas gauge and tried to work out if they'd have enough to make it to Louisville or not. The needle was nearly on the bottom of the red, just above the _E. _

"It's going to be close," he said. "We might end up hoofing it for a while if we can't find something else in the next ten minutes."

"We will," Zack told him.

They didn't. The car wheezed to a halt just after a sign announcing they were five miles away from the city limits. Cody let it coast as far as he could before pulling to the side of the road and throwing it into park. The three boys got out and stretched before they unloaded their gear. The twins took the majority of the weight but Anthony took his fair share, sliding Cody's duffel bag over his shoulder after finding he couldn't quite carry the bag of guns and ammunition.

"Maybe in a year or two," Cody told him when they traded. "Speaking of, have you ever shot a gun, Anthony?"

"Not a bunch but I used to go hunting with my uncle and my cousins."

"Were you any good?"

"I shot a few deer last year."

"Good," Zack chimed in. "Maybe we can have something besides Spam for a change."

"We have to find a deer to shoot first, Zack," Cody reminded him as they started walking. "I think I've seen a grand total of two since we got out of Boston. Then again there could have been more since I haven't really been looking for them."

Zack walked up behind his brother and slid the rifle out of the bag and held it out to Anthony. "Be careful with this," he told the boy as he handed it over. "It's a lot stronger than anything you've probably shot before." Anthony took it and looked it over reverently.

"This is awesome. Where'd you get it?" he asked.

"Let's just say that we took it off the hands of a very bad man," Zack told him. "I'll tell you the whole story later if you want."

"Maybe," Anthony said as they started walking.

They walked on the road's shoulder for nearly a mile before a sign advertising the usual gas, hotels, and fast food appeared before them. Cody looked at Zack and received a nod, finalizing their plans for the night. The city was still a few miles away but it would still be there in the morning. As much as Cody wanted to press on and reach his goal, the prudence of having a safe place to stay for the night won out.

"Can we stay in one of the penthouse suites?" Anthony asked as they headed up the ramp. "I've always wanted to do that."

"I don't see why not," Cody replied. As they neared the group of hotels, he began to doubt that any of them would have a penthouse. They looked nice but none of the three buildings he saw could hold a melted stub of a candle to the Tipton. "Doesn't look like we'll be having a room with a solid gold toilet tonight," he said as they walked to the biggest of the three hotels.

"They make those?" Anthony asked incredulously.

"They do. I've personally bombed one," Zack told him, thinking of London's suite back in Boston. _I wonder if she made it? Probably not._

"Isn't that kind of pointless?"

"I think so, Anthony, but when you're as rich as some people are, money ceases to be an object," Cody said, also thinking of London.

"I guess it doesn't really matter now since none of them work anyway," the younger boy said. "You might as well— look!" He pointed to the lawn beside the hotel's driveway.

"Holy crap, it's a deer," Cody said softly as he put a hand out to stop his brother.

"No, it's dinner. Anthony, can you make the shot?" Zack looked down at the boy and saw a slight nod of his head.

"Yeah, I can do it," the boy said as he took a few steps forward and bent down on one knee. He brought the rifle to his shoulder and settled it into place.

"I can't believe this, Cody. We've seen a handful of deer in the last three weeks or however long it's been and we give the kid a gun twenty minutes ago and there's one a hundred feet ahead of us munching grass," Zack said in his brother's ear. "Maybe he's our good luck charm or something."

"I hope so. We've had enough bad luck to last a hundred lifetimes."

Cody had been watching the boy take careful aim and was beginning to wonder if Anthony was ever going to take the shot when the rifle rang out. Three sets of eyes watched as the deer jumped. A swear was forming in Zack's throat as the deer turned around and he had nearly uttered it when it took two steps but fell over before he could.

"I got it!" Anthony exclaimed with a fist pump.  
"I'll be damned," Zack said, "he did."

Anthony put the rifle on the ground and raced forward, skidding to a halt on his knees beside the deer. Zack and Cody walked up at a more respectable pace, Cody bending down to pick up the rifle along the way. "I got it!" Anthony said again, the smile on his face bright enough to light a room.

"You sure did. Now what do we do with it?"

"Excuse my brother, Anthony. He's a dyed-in-the-wool nerd who thinks meat is created at a supermarkets at midnight by magicians in dark hooded cloaks."

"No, not quite, Zack. I know where it comes from but the part where it gets from this," Cody gestured to the deer, "to wrapped in plastic in the meat department is kind of hazy."

"We have to field dress it first. That means take all of its insides and put them on the outside," he said, looking at Cody. "After that we can skip a few steps and just cut the good parts off and cook them over a fire."

"What are the good parts?"

"Um, the parts with the most meat, I guess. My uncle always took care of that part."

"I don't care what parts we cut off and cook as long as we do it sometime soon," Zack broke in. "I'll eat the thing's ears if I have to. I just want some real meat for a change." He walked off a short distance and started building a fire pit, scuffing a shallow hole out of the ground with the heel of his boot.

"Hey Cody, do you have a knife? I had a pocketknife but lost it somewhere."

"I don't, but I'm pretty sure Zack has one in his bag. It's one of those army knives so it's super sharp."

"I'll be careful," Anthony told him as he reached Zack's bag and started digging through it. "Oh wow! Look at this!" Cody and Zack turned to see Anthony holding Zack's secret stash of Penthouses and other assorted dirty magazines in front of him like the Holy Grail. Cody looked as his brother and even in the dying light could tell that he was already turning at least thirteen shades of red.

"I...I don't know how those got in there," Zack stuttered. Anthony flipped through the pages of one of them and wowed again.

"Looks like he caught you one-handed, Zack," Cody laughed.

"Huh? Hey!" Zack said as he quickly walked back over to the boy and his bag.

"She's pretty. And very naked," Anthony told him, showing Zack the centerfold.

"Yeah, she definitely is," Zack said as he took a long, hard look at Ms. November. "Now why don't you let me have those back and I'll get you the knife?" Anthony reluctantly gave the stack back and Zack rooted around in the bag and gave him the blade.

Cody had intended to watch and maybe even help Anthony cut the deer up but backed off after his stomach gave a gurgle of warning when the first incision was made in the deer's belly and blood welled up. He coughed hard and told Anthony that he was going to help Zack with the fire pit. He gathered some of the large landscaping stones and began piling them around the circular hole Zack had gouged out.

"I don't know how much of a beacon a campfire would be to a zombie," he told Zack as he finished his first layer of rocks. "If we keep it hidden behind the stones it'll be harder for them to see."

"Makes sense. What about the smell of cooking meat, though? Will that draw them?"

"I hope not. We'll have to be careful, I guess."

Between the two of them, they had a ring of rocks almost a foot tall around the fire pit in less than five minutes and set about scrounging enough wood to make a fire. They ranged a short distance away from Anthony but one of them always kept an eye on the boy. A shopping cart loaded full of sticks and branches and whatever else they could scavenge pushed in front of them, they returned and started the fire. Zack stomped on the cart until the back piece broke free and set it atop the stones, creating a make-shift grill.

It was burning nicely by the time Anthony had finished butchering the deer. The pieces were ragged and Cody couldn't begin to guess what part of the animal they'd been cut from, but he found that he didn't care once the aroma reached his nose. The boys all stood around the fire and licked their lips as the meat spit and bubbled.

"This might be the best thing I've ever eaten in my life," Zack said with a mouthful of deer. He was holding the meat in both hands and doing his best to make it disappear in less than a minute.

"I'll agree with that. I forgot how delicious real food can be. Thanks, Anthony."

"You're welcome," Anthony told him. "It's the least I can do. Maybe we can find another one tomorrow."

"In case we can't, we should eat as much of this as we can. It's a shame we can't keep it fresh," Cody said, wiping dribbled juice from his chin with the hem of his shirt.

"Yeah, that won't be a problem." Zack reached for another piece of deer meat and began inhaling it. "There won't be any leftovers if I have anything to do with it."

There nearly weren't. The three boys were stuffed and were sitting lazily around the remnants of the fire. Cody wanted to mention the lack of zombies but was afraid he'd jinx them if he did. He'd noticed that as the days passed, the fewer and fewer they'd seen in the countryside and the more they'd spot in the cities that they had to pass through. He was turning that idea over in his mind when he felt Anthony lean into him.

"We should probably get a room soon," Zack said, breaking the amicable silence. "He's just about asleep."

"No I'm not," Anthony argued with a yawn.

A few minutes later, they'd stomped the fire out and buried the deer's entrails in the ashes and were on their way up the hotel's stairwell, bellies full and eyelids heavy. They found that there was no awesome suite on the top floor but they didn't care. The rooms all had soft beds and that was all that mattered.

"My mom and I were hiding in our house when the zombies finally made it to town," Anthony told them as he laid on the bed. Cody and Zack had shared their story and he sat, arms behind his head and covers pulled up to his chin, and began his own. "She would sit there and watch the news every minute it was on or listen to the radio when it wasn't, waiting to hear that help was coming. She tried to pretend that she wasn't scared but I could tell she was. She just hid it well.

"When they came, the zombies, I mean, not the help. They always said help was on the way but it never was. Anyway, when they came, we were sitting in the living room with the radio on the table. Mom had just got up to get some water when I heard glass breaking. At first I thought she'd dropped a cup but she yelled for me to run. I hopped up and ran to the kitchen and saw her fighting with one of them that had broken through the back door. She had one hand on its throat and the other on its arm.

"She looked over at me and screamed for me to run again. That she'd hold it off long enough for me to escape. And that she loved me." Anthony stopped nearly a full minute while he tried his best to fight back the sobs that were desperately trying to break out. "I don't remember much about the next few minutes. I ran, I know that much. I don't know long I'd run when I finally stopped but my sides were splitting and I felt like I was going to pass out and my legs felt like gravy.

"I was sitting on a bench at a bus stop and waiting for my body to feel better when I noticed that I'd grabbed the picture of me and my mom off the 'fridge on the way out. I don't remember taking it at all. It was rolled up in my hand like some old scroll.

"After that I broke into a house and laid in a bed and cried for a while, a few days, probably. And then I left. I couldn't stay in that town anymore. I was afraid I'd run into my mother. I must have walked for three or four days, maybe a whole week, staying on the highway and dodging zombies. I stopped in the town you found me in because my legs were killing me and I stayed there. I'd sneak out and gather food and water and I built my barricades and zombie traps and watched."

"And then we came," Cody said, breaking Anthony's monologue.

"Yep. I'd been in that house for at least a week before you two showed up."

"Were we the first people you'd seen?"

"Not quite," he told Cody. "There were a few others but they didn't look friendly so I stayed hidden."

"You didn't happen to see a woman in her later thirties, did you? A little taller than us with reddish-brown hair?"

"No, sorry. That's your mother, right?"

"Yeah," Zack said, a little sad even know he knew the odds were impossibly long.

Ten minutes passed with talk of happier things and Anthony had fallen into a peaceful sleep. Cody was sitting against the headboard beside him and it wasn't two minutes before Anthony had wiggled his way over just enough to be touching Cody's leg and hip. He put a hand on the boy's shoulder and pulled the covers up.

"He's becoming your little right-hand-man, you know," Zack said when Cody looked back up.

"Is it that noticeable?"

"I think even Grandpa would have been able to see it." Zack was quiet for a few seconds before adding, "I don't think he likes me."

"I wouldn't go that far. I think he's a little wary of you."

"Why? What'd I do?"

"I think a part of it might come from when we first met him."

"I thought we were cool about that? Anthony and I, I mean."

"I think you are, it's just that he's only nine. Hurt feelings last longer when you're younger."

"I'll have to make it up to him somehow."

"Just give him some time. And make sure you hide your pornos better," Cody grinned.

"I swear I didn't think he ever find those." Zack sounded incredibly guilty.

"It's okay, Zack. It's just not something he needs to see yet."

"Shit...when I was nine, I..I don't think I'm going to finish that because it will only embarrass you," he grinned, obviously thinking back to some sordid experience four years prior.

"I don't even want to know," Cody told him.

"Yes you do."

"No, really. I'm good. Some things are best left unsaid."

Zack had stripped to his underwear and pulled the covers back on his bed and slid beneath them and was asleep almost as quickly as Anthony. Cody tried to do the same but didn't have the success the others did. He laid there and spent a while staring at the ceiling before rolling out of bed and padding to the balcony and sitting in a chair. The stars were incredibly clear these last few nights. No light pollution and three weeks of factories not dumping tons of smoke into the air would do that, he noted as he sat back and hunted for constellations he'd only seen in books.

He awoke in the wee hours of the morning with a terribly stiff neck and a raging thirst. Cody went back inside and swallowed two aspirin with half of a bottle of water. A glance at his watch told him it was just after five a.m. but he didn't think more sleep was in his future.

"We need to find him some clothes today," he said when he saw Anthony curled up in the center of the bed. Cody could just barely see the boy's clothes laying in a pile beside his shoes and wouldn't have been surprised if they got up and walked away under their own power. "He needs a bath, too. Who knows when he took his last one."

Now he had a mission and he wouldn't be going back to sleep even if he wanted to. There was a gallon bottle of water in their bathroom and Cody reckoned that there would be one in most of the other rooms on this floor as well. "It won't be warm but it'll be wet," he whispered as he pulled on the last of his clean clothes and grabbed his pistol.

Cody commandeered a luggage dolly and had it half full of water jugs by the time he finished his circuit of their floor. By his figures, that would be just about right for a few inches of water with enough left over to rinse with. He pushed the dolly easily down the hall before struggling to get it over the threshold and into their room. Cody nearly tipped the whole thing over twice before he was able to maneuver it inside and close the door.

The the twins and the still-damp Anthony emerged from the room a few hours later. The twins were dressed normally but Anthony was wearing only a towel. Cody had declared the boy's clothes a biohazard and promised their first item of business that morning would be to get him something new to wear.

"Okay," Anthony had replied, feeling slightly naughty as he walked through the hotel and across the parking lot and street to a Walmart wrapped only in soft white cotton. The twins stood sentry while Anthony grabbed handfuls of shirts and shorts and underwear and dropped them in a cart. When he was finished, Zack and Cody took turns adding their own clothes to the pile. After a search for any food turned up the usual leftovers, they were in the parking lot and began pairing their new found clothes down to manageable levels and loading their packs.

"We ready?" Zack asked as he shouldered his bag. "If we can find ourselves a car, we can be across the river in less than half an hour.

"Anthony? Your bag isn't too heavy, is it?" Cody asked and got a _no _in reply. "Yeah, I think we're set."

"Good. Let's find a good car and get a move on." Zack set the pace as they started across the parking lot. The night had been cool but the day was already setting up to be a scorcher. The boys were already sweating before they'd put a mile behind them. "Yeah, air conditioning would be really nice right about now," Zack mumbled as they came upon another pack of abandoned cars. He wiped his brow and flicked a spray of sweat to the pavement.

They found a quad-cab truck with air conditioning on their fourth try. It was a stick so Cody, who had turned out to be the better operator of a clutch by far, was the pilot. Zack offered the front passenger seat to Anthony who gladly accepted and settled into the back. They cruised through the city and caught the occasional glimpse of the Ohio River. It grew before them and each boy was having the same thought but it was Zack who voiced it.

"Where's the bridge?" he craned his neck to look through the windshield and grew angrier as each tenth of a mile clicked away on the odometer. "This is ridiculous. I'm about tired of people blowing up bridges and thinking that it'll save them. God_dammit_." Zack threw himself against the back seat and crossed his arms over his chest. Cody looked in the mirror and thought he saw tears of frustration or even rage forming in the corners of his brother's eyes.

"I know there's another bridge on I-65. We'll have to backtrack further into Indiana but we can still make it," Cody said. "We can figure out how to get there and try that one."

"Why? If they blew one, they'd be stupid not to blow them both," Zack said, still irritated but calming down from a few seconds earlier.

"So do we drive around and look for another bridge somewhere? Or do we go down to the river and find a boat?"

"I vote boat," Anthony piped in and Zack agreed. Cody nodded and turned the car around and tried to find the quickest way down to the riverfront. They'd made their way off the interstate and down into the warren of residential streets below. Cody was weaving through the partially choked lanes at a snail's pace when the sound of gunfire reached their ears.

"It's coming from over there," Anthony said, pointing. Three seconds later a mob of zombies came into view at the end of the street, as did what looked like an older teen and two kids retreating and valiantly trying to hold them off with small arms.

"Stop the truck long enough for me to get in the bed and then drive by the group on the left side," Zack said as he pulled the assault rifle and a spare magazine from their bag. He hadn't used it yet but wasn't worried since it would be next to impossible to miss at almost point-blank range. Zack hopped out and closed the door and climbed into the bed of the truck. He popped the tailgate and thumped his twice hand on the roof, telling Cody to go.

The truck lurched forward and Zack nearly fell out of the back before he got his footing. He braced himself and locked the gun into his shoulder, gingerly pulling on the trigger as they neared the horde of undead. The sound of the gun's retort was louder and more sinister than he'd expected but he loved the power behind it. Zombies dropped like flies as their bodies disintegrated.

"Get in!" Zack shouted as they roared closer to the group. The three made a fighting retreat to the truck and piled in while Zack laid down covering fire, smoothly dropping one clip and replacing it with another. Once the last of them had made it into the bed, Zack hammered on the roof again and Cody gunned the engine and took off, sideswiping a zombie that dared come too close and sending it flying into the gutter.

Cody raced down the road for nearly a dozen blocks before the adrenaline began to wear off. He pulled into a drug store parking lot and stopped the truck. Anthony piled out and Cody was right behind him as they went to the back of the truck to check on their new passengers.

"I already thanked your brother but I'll thank you, too," the older of the three said. "You saved our asses back there. Thanks." He held out his hand and Cody shook it. "I'm Chris. Those two are Tom and Nate."

Cody introduced himself and his party before getting down to the important question. "What are you guys doing down here?"

"We were scrounging for whatever supplies we could find. This area has been picked pretty clean but we were giving it one last try since it's a lot closer than the other side of the river. We were in a warehouse when we got flushed out by a bunch of walkers. We ran out the nearest door and right into another, bigger, group of them.

"We had a truck but they were all over it like flies on shit and we couldn't get back to it so we were fighting our way down the street when you found us."

"Do you live somewhere around here?" Cody asked, his interest piqued.

"Yeah, we have a fortress down near the river," one of the new boys, Nate, if Cody was right, told them.

"It's hardly a fortress but it's kept us safe so far. It used to be an old house but we've fortified it. If you wouldn't mind giving us a lift, I bet you can have your first hot shower in weeks. Maybe a hot meal, too."

"You have hot water?" Cody gasped, his stomach taking a back seat to a luxury he never thought he'd have again.

"Hot water and ice, too," Tom said.

"Ice? How?" It was Zack's turn to be surprised.

"Generators and solar power," Chris told them as he safed his pistol and slipped it into a shoulder holster.

Zack could see the gears turning in his brother's head after Chris spoke. "I think we can make that happen. Why don't you hop in the cab and give my brother directions and I'll ride back here with these two?" Zack wanted to trust him but couldn't quite do it. By his plan, he'd be with two of theirs while Chris was with two of his and he figured the older boy wouldn't try anything. _Paranoia, Zack. Paranoia._

"Sounds like a plan," Chris said. A minute later they were on the road again and heading toward the boys' strong point.

Cody had seen how Anthony had rigged his zombie defenses but as they approached, he saw that these people had taken it to another level. Gaping pits and ironworks and what had to be _miles _of barbed wire all tied together reminded him of nothing so much as Nazi beach defenses from the old Normandy invasion movies he'd watched in the past filled the ground leading up to the house. The road itself was a sidewinder snake, switching back every few dozen yards before reaching a moat. A _moat. _And fences. Lots of fences. He wasn't positive, but he was pretty sure he saw two snipers on the roof of the house.

"Let us out at the bottom of the hill," Chris told Cody as they approached. "I doubt they'd open fire but it's better not to take a chance."

"Yeah, definitely," Cody said as he slowed. Even squinting into the sun, he was positive there was someone at the top of the hill staring at them through binoculars. He crawled behind Chris and the two boys as they wound their way up the hill to the house, testing his clutch skills to the limit.

"I don't care how nice they seem," Zack said through the sliding window, "we go in with guns drawn. We made that mistake once and we aren't making it again." He saw Cody's eyes in the mirror. "I don't mean pointed at them, but out and ready. Just in case." The other two nodded as they crept up the hill.

Chris waved and said something that was lost over the sound of the engine and the drawbridge lowered. Cody was waved forward and they drove into the redoubt. He was waved over to a row of cars and he obeyed, turning the truck off and exiting with his shotgun slung over his shoulder and a pistol in his hand. Zack jumped down and cradled the assault rifle like a newborn while Anthony did his best to not look awkward while holding the rifle.

Two grown men and a woman came out to meet them. One was armed while the other man and woman had pistols at their hips. "Welcome to High Point," the armed man told them. "I'm Ben. This is Eric and that's Sonya," he said, pointing to the others.

"I'm Zack and that's Cody and Anthony," Zack told him. "Forgive me if we don't walk in unarmed. The last people that took us in tried to trade us for a generator." There were enough people with spitting distance with guns, some younger than he was, he noticed, that his comment was mostly bravado. The three of them would be dropped before they'd get off more than a handful of rounds.

"I don't know if it will still your fears any, but we already have three generators," Ben said in a calm voice. "You are welcome here and we thank you for rescuing our scouts."

"Thank you," Zack said and the other two echoed the sentiment.

The man motioned for the three to follow him and led the way through the camp. Cody looked on in near awe as he saw a huge bank of solar panels set up on the roof of the house while Zack's jaw dropped at two semi trailers of diesel parked in a concrete revetment. These people were for real, he decided.

"We have hot water if any of you are in the mood for a shower," Ben told them as they stepped inside the house. Fans, either generator or solar powered, Cody wasn't sure but didn't care, lapped at their faces.

"Oh am I ever," he admitted before he could stop. He could suddenly smell himself and it wasn't pleasant.

"As long as you keep them short and don't mind taking turns, we can have all three of you fresh as a daisy in no time." Ben pointed to the end of the hall and the improvised shower that had been installed.

Twenty minutes later, Cody stepped out of a shower feeling cleaner than he had in the better part of a month. Anthony joined him shortly but Zack was still slightly on guard while he chewed the fat with Ben and the others.

"How long have you all been here?" he asked as he sipped at a cold glass of water.

"Since about two days after everything went to hell. I'd seen the house a thousand times as I'd drive to work and decided it would make a great base if anything cataclysmic ever happened."

"From what I've seen you were right. Many zombies around here?"

"More than I figured there would be," Ben admitted. "We'll snipe a dozen or so a day and pick another handful off the razor wire every morning. Damn stupid things cut themselves to pieces on it. It's like picking up rancid deli meat." Zack's stomach performed a slight barrel roll at the comparison. "So what brings you to our fair city, Zack? You've already missed the Derby so that can't be it." Ben grinned as he leaned back in his chair.

"We're working our way across the country to Kansas to hopefully meet up with our mom," he told the man across the table.

"I figured it wasn't for the nightlife," Ben told him. "We have a boat but you got here a little late." Zack looked at him through furrowed brows. "I sent some men across the river at dawn to scout the area and do a little foraging."

"We can wait," Zack told him, feeling slightly odd trying to negotiate with someone old enough to be his father.

"They're due back in a few hours but we can probably get you across the river before night falls. If they get back late, we can get you across first thing in the morning."

"We aren't afraid of crossing the river in the dark," Zack told him.

"We aren't either. It's the landing that isn't so easy at night." Zack looked at him and waited for the explanation. "We're not sure why but there always seems to be a ton of zombies down on the riverfront at night and there are plenty of places that they can seemingly pop out of nowhere and surprise you. Other things, too. We learned that the hard way about a week ago."

Zack nodded. "We can wait until morning if it's safer. And thanks again."

"It's the least we could do after you saved three of our own." Zack was sure that Ben almost said _three of my own._ They talked a little longer but the details were already ironed out. They'd be taken across the river with no strings attached and given a chance to rest and resupply. Zack couldn't think of a better deal.

"Before we do this, I have to say something," Ben said. "I know what you hope to find on the other side of the river but it might not be there. Your mother...any number of things could have happened." He pushed his chair back up and rose to his feet. "We have a rather secure colony here and I would like to extend an offer to all three of you. You are welcome to stay with us."

Zack glanced at his brother for a split second before looking back to the man. "We can't. We promised our mother that we'd make it to the farm and we're too close to stop now. She could be there right this second, waiting for us." Cody nodded in agreement and the issue was settled but Ben looked a little sad.

A short while later the three boys were relaxing in a spare room, Cody and Anthony laying on a bed while Zack sat in a chair against a wall. "Okay, honest opinion. Are these people as legit as they seem?" he asked his brother and Anthony.

"I think so," Cody told him after a few seconds of consideration. "They seem normal. I haven't heard anything from the others we've talked to that makes me not believe them."

Zack's gaze shifted to Anthony. "I guess so. They seem nice and actually friendly, not fake like some of the people I saw while I was hiding."

"What about you, Zack?" Cody asked, interested in what his brother had to say.

"I think I believe them. I don't feel any of the...I don't know what to call it. No mistrust, I guess." Zack stood up and stretched. "Hey Anthony, you'll be okay for a little while if I go talk to Cody, right?"

"Yeah, sure," the boy said. He looked up at Cody and got a reassuring nod.

"Good. We'll be back in a few. C'mon, Cody." Zack lead him out of the room and up a staircase to a deck overlooking the river. He made sure the door was closed and that they were alone.

"You want him to stay here, don't you?" Cody asked, figuring out Zack's plan in an instant.

"I think he should. He'd be safer here than he ever could be with us. They have a small arsenal here. Enough guns to put down every zombie on the east coast. Military grade shit, Cody. Add that to hot water, some electricity, regular meals, and a bed to sleep in. Why shouldn't he stay with them?"

"I don't have a good answer for that," Cody told him after a minute of contemplation. "Selfishness, I guess. I've grown attached to him in the last two days and I don't want to abandon him with a bunch of strangers even if they could protect him better than I could." Cody leaned against the railing and blew out a slow breath. "No, that's not selfish at all, is it?"

"I honestly can't say I want him to stay either."

"What?" Cody was shocked.

Zack pushed a rogue hair from his forehead. "It's settled then. Unless he wants to stay, of course," he said, cutting the conversation short.

"I was expecting you to fight me on this like before."

"Nah, I can't in good conscience. I like the kid even though he doesn't like me that much. Besides, I know better than to get between a momma bear and her cub."

"I'll ask him later. I'm pretty sure I know the answer, though." Cody headed back inside into the cooler air.

"Yeah, that's as sure a bet as there is." He followed his brother back in the house.

Cody spent the early part of the afternoon looking over all the post-apocalyptic improvements and committed each of them to memory. He took extra time with the solar panel and battery system since the smallest error in wiring could blow a battery in seconds. Anthony was by his side, trying to understand the ins and outs of everything.

"Hey Anthony, can I ask you a question?" the boy nodded. "Zack and I were talking earlier and we decided that this is a relatively safe place."

"I don't want to stay," he said, surprising Cody and making him wonder if he was that transparent.

"You don't?"

"No. Unless you want me to."

"Anthony," he put a hand on the boy's shoulder and pulled him into a brotherly hug, "I think it would be safer for you in the long run if you did stay but," he put up a hand to forestall the argument he could see forming, "but, I'd rather you stayed with us."

"Does Zack want me to stay?"

"Surprisingly no." Anthony seemed intrigued by that.

"I thought he didn't like me."

"Oddly enough, he said the same thing about you." Cody pulled away a few inches and rubbed the boy's head. "Well, now that that's settled, why don't we see if we can find where they keep the food? I'm getting hungry." Anthony seconded the idea and they set off to look for the kitchen.

The boat returned shortly before five in the afternoon and nearly all of the colony members were down at the dock to watch it motor in. Ben looked on with approval as he saw the stacks of supplies that were strapped down everywhere. Zack looked on with surprise as he saw two machine guns mounted on stands, one at the bow, the other at the stern.

"That's a lot of firepower for a boat to be carrying, isn't it?" he asked the man as they stood at the head of the dock.

"I would have agreed with you until a week ago. We were working further up the Indiana side of the river when another group of survivors opened fire on us. We lost five good men and women that day."

"I'm sorry," Zack said, not having words to say anything else. Ben nodded.

"So after that, we got those fifties from our armory and fitted them out. We haven't had to use them yet but they're a nice insurance policy against anyone trying that again."

The boat was now close enough that Zack could see dozens of bullet holes stitched up and down its side. Lines were thrown to the shore and the boat was tied down and the foraged supplies began to be offloaded. The trio watched as Ben walked a short distance away and talked with the returning foragers. A finger pointed their way a few times and heads were nodded.

He returned to them and told them of the decision. "We're going to refuel the boat and let the crew grab a bite to eat and then we'll take you across the river. Ryan, the big guy in the red hat over there, said the best place would be a few miles down from where the bridge used to connect. Easiest spot to make it back to the highway for miles, he said."

"That'll be just fine," Cody told him, answering for the group.

Inside an hour they were off, cutting through the slight chop of the river. Ryan, Cody never figured out if that was his first or last name, pointed into the distance. "That's where we're heading, just past those bluffs." Cody squinted his eyes but couldn't see anything over the glare of the sun on the water. He nodded and took it on faith that the man knew where he was going.

They slowed when they were less than a mile from the shore and multiple pairs of binoculars scanned the shore. "No walkers, no welcoming committee either," Ryan declared, resting a hand on the fifty. He sounded a little put out about both and Cody got the feeling that he was itching for a little revenge.

They motored in closer, steering toward the remains of a dock, many eyes still trained on the shore. A call to clear out the bushes was given and the two fifties opened up and raked the shoreline for a hundred yards in either direction. Anthony covered his ears with his hands at the noise.

"I think we're good," Ryan said when the guns stopped spitting tongues of flame. The boat pulled up to the dock and the three boys climbed out.

"Thanks for the ride," Cody told the man as he pushed off.

"No, thank you. I don't know if Ben told you but one of the boys you saved was mine." He reached out a big hand and engulfed Cody's. "Take care of yourselves," he said after the round of handshakes were finished.

"We will."

"I know. And if you don't find what you're looking for, remember that we're here," Ryan told them as the engines spooled up. He flipped them a salute and turned to issue an order.

Cody and Anthony watched the boat until it was lost in the haze while Zack scanned the area behind them. He didn't expect to see anything moving, not after the two guns had walked their way up and down the shore, but he couldn't help it.

"Come on, you two, we should get going," Zack said, slightly impatient, "we have another hour or two before it gets dark and I don't want to spend it down here." They trudged up a small hill and away from the water, finding a road within ten minutes and a small town half an hour later.

_I'd like to thank everyone for their vacation well-wishes. It was incredibly awesome and I don't think I've ever gone through as much beer in ten days as I did down there. Naturally, the minute I got home I paid for all the good times. My AC went out, my truck broke down, and a handful of other Welcome Home events put off me writing this for almost a week. When I finally got around to starting it, the chapter just wouldn't end. However, I doubt there'll be many complaints about that after my last short chapter._

_I'd like to add that while Zack might not make a University of Kentucky fan ride in the trunk, I certainly would. _

_Thanks._


	18. Chapter 18

"If you can't pull your own weight you aren't coming with us," Zack said to him. "It's that simple." Anthony looked over to Cody for support but he was standing with his arms crossed over his chest and shook his head.

"Zack's right. We aren't a babysitter. You might end up getting us killed. Sorry, kid." Cody turned his back on Anthony and started walking away, pack slung over one arm. "Good luck," he called back as he walked to the door.

"What do you want me to do? Whatever it is I'll do it!" he yelled. "I'll do it! Please don't leave me behind!"

"You had your chance and you blew it," Zack told him. "Don't try to follow us. I'll shoot you." Zack spun on a heel and followed his brother out into the night.

Anthony woke up in a cold sweat. He opened his eyes and turned his head to see Cody's sleeping form laying only a few inches away. He bit back a random sob and tried to relax with a series of deep breaths. It was only a dream, one that he wished would fade back into the haze it came from, but it still made him shiver. He scooted closer to Cody and pulled the sheet back up to his chin.

Anthony looked at the ceiling for a long while before sleep took him again. He fought back tears once when the idea of them leaving him in real life refused to get out of his mind. He drug a hand across his eyes to wipe away the wetness and almost on cue, Cody shifted in his sleep and draped a hand over him. Anthony relaxed into the sheets and it wasn't long before he was under again, peaceful.

Nightmares rarely come alone and this night was no exception. Not long after he'd drifted off under Cody's arm, Anthony was tossing in his sleep again, tormented by another bad dream. He tossed in his sleep, desperately wanting to wake up but was unable to do so.

He was back in their house again, a few days after the zombie outbreak had fully taken root across the world. His mother was sitting on the edge of the couch, focused on the television with a cigarette dangling from two fingers, more ash than unburned tobacco. He was in the kitchen fixing himself a bowl of cereal with the last of their milk.

"They said that there's Army and National Guard units forming up all over the place, Ant. They're calling them exterminationgroups_. _Did you hear that? Help will be on the way soon."

"I heard it, Mom," he told her but didn't believe it. He fished a spoon out of the drawer and shut it.

"They're showing video of troops getting into trucks," she said as he walked back into the room. "Look at all of them."

"That's a lot of trucks," he said as he took in the end of the video. There was no bar telling where the video was filmed from or even a little _live _bar floating in the upper right corner. He looked at his mother, to tell her that the video could be from anywhere, anytime, but couldn't when he saw her face. She looked upbeat and hopeful for the first time in days and he refused to ruin it.

Three days passed in a second of dream time and he was sitting on the couch while his mother was in the kitchen getting him a glass of water. He yawned and leaned back against the couch. He heard her scream and the glass break just like he had a thousand times and was in the kitchen with her a heartbeat later.

"Help me," she screamed. "Help me, Anthony!" she reached a hand out for him and he watched as her skin darkened and shriveled before his eyes. He looked up and saw the zombie's ragged teeth deep in his mother's throat. "It's...so cold," she said as the life drained from her eyes and was replaced with maddening, ravenous hunger.

"Mom!" he croaked and took a half-step back as she reached for him again. Her nails had turned a putrid green and they clutched at the air inches from his nose. Anthony turned to run and his foot slipped on the tile floor. He went down to one knee and immediately launched himself sideways and out of her grasp. He regained his feet and ran for the door.

"Join us," the zombie that was his mother called to him as he fumbled with the lock. He looked over his shoulder and barked a short cry before flinging the heavy wooden door open. His fingers reached for the latch on the storm door when he saw his mother standing on the front porch. He pinwheeled his arms and stepped back as her fingernails began carving through the glass.

"You won't feel a thing, I promise. I've never lied to you, have I, Ant?" his kitchen-zombie-mother rasped from behind him as she stumbled across the carpeting.

Anthony, desperate, turned and looked to the nearby stairs and saw his only escape route. He'd taken the first three steps in one leap before coming face to face with a third version of his undead mother. "Come on, Ant. Don't be scared." She reached out for him and he fell backwards and landed gracelessly in a heap at the bottom of the steps.

He shook his head and his vision cleared enough to make out three familiar but terrible heads looming over him. "It will all be over in a second," they said together as they bent down. He felt their dead fingers crawling over his skin and he shuddered with revulsion. A scream began forming in his throat but it was blocked by his terror. The damn finally burst and he let it out.

Anthony sat up, eyes wide and fingers knotted white around a fistful of blanket. He jerked his head around the room and relaxed once the fact that it was only a dream sunk into his mind. The twins were still sound asleep, he noted, and was grateful that he didn't scream in the waking world. He forced his hands to let go and laid back down with a sigh.

He knew from experience that sleep wouldn't be coming back, not after a dream like that. His heart was still racing when he gently rolled off their make-shift bed and got to his feet. He looked back and saw Zack sprawled out over half the bed and Cody curled into a small ball and wondered what he slept like.

After peeing in the bathtub, Anthony returned to the upstairs room and dressed. He checked his watch and felt his eyes getting moist when he saw the date. "We were supposed to leave for vacation today," he said softly. "To the beach. I've never been to the beach. And Disney. Never been there, either. Probably never will now." His mind tried to bring up images of his mother and he quickly changed thoughts before it could, picturing a zombie Mickey Mouse with red-stained gloves slowly chasing after tourists. He grinned a small, sad grin.

Anthony took a deep breath to calm himself and sat down in a computer chair across from the twins. He looked at them fondly, wondering for the hundredth time why they would pick up a stray like him and being thankful just as many times that they did. _I've got to show them that I'm useful, that I can take care of myself. _He had no illusions that he'd have been able to survive forever by himself. There had been enough close calls already and he knew that his luck would have eventually run out. He was determined to watch out for them, watch over them.

He didn't know that he'd fallen dreamlessly asleep. Anthony woke up with a start to a noise from the street below, a trash can being kicked or knocked over from the sound of it. He crept to the window at the end of the room, ignoring his foot that seemed to have missed the wake up call the rest of his body had received. He hissed at the pins and needles feeling as he reached out and separated two of the wooden blind slats.

He saw only four of them down there and was relieved. Four was a relatively safe number and he hesitated to wake the twins. Anthony let the blinds fall closed and retrieved his chair and reopened his spyhole. Still just four. The one in the lead was missing its entire left arm and the majority of its scalp but it still trudged on. Disheartened, Anthony watched. And thought.

_Inevitability_. Anthony knew the word, had heard it many times, but it didn't come running when his brain called for it. It would have fit what he was thinking perfectly, much more than the _eventually _that was running through his mind like a river. Eventually. Eventually. Eventually.

"They're going to get us eventually," he said softly as he sat on his perch and watched the walkers – their word, the colony people. "How can we stop things that don't bleed and don't die when they're missing pieces?" Another staggered into view from around the corner. As he watched, he knew they knew he was there. Near. There. Close.

The walkers, zeds – Zack's word, one of many like _punkass undead nasty zombie motherfuckers _when he was shooting at them – were turning their heads on rusty-hinged necks and attempting to smell him out. Them out. Or maybe it was what Cody had been discussing with himself last night; some sort of heartbeat radar. Faulty, to be sure, balky like the old television in Grandma's basement, but working well enough to guide them in the right general direction.

They stumbled past him, up to the end of the block, before stopping cold in their tracks and looking around with more of their sightless vision. He held his breath and willed his heart to stop beating for the long few seconds they looked at the house they were sleeping in.

Their black idiot gaze looked his window over, seemed to pass through the blinds and into the recessed shadow he was shrouded in and meet his own. _We don't know where you are but we know you're here, _it said. _We will find you. Eventually. _

Anthony wanted to argue, to scream at it and declare their horde of bullets and blades, and tell it that it was grossly mistaken.

_Bullets are finite, _it said in his mind. _When they are gone, they are gone. Who will make more?_

"I'll lop your head off like a dandelion," he retorted.

_Blades dull and numbers overwhelm, child. For every one of us you shoot or dismember, a hundred more will take its place. Surrender to the inevitable._

Its soulless eyes held his and he couldn't tear his gaze away. Being on this earth for nine short years, Anthony had little concept of abstract ideas such as _freedom_ or _chauvinism_ but he knew the name for what he didn't see in its eyes. Humanity. It had none and threatened to take away his. He shivered even in the summer morning heat. The thing, a woman, he noted at last, finally shifted her gaze to another house before shuffling along in a new direction. Her followers shifted course as well, heading up the street across from him and forcing him to watch their jerky, elongated shadows chase after them.

Anthony let out the breath he forgot he was holding and jumped back in surprise when the woman turned her ragged head around. _There is no hope for you or your kind. We are legion. You are few. You are three._

"I'll die for them. I won't let you touch them."

_They will die. They will rise again._

"No. They won't."

_They will. You will. We have all the time in the world. It will happen. Eventually._

She turned and began walking again, heedless of a fifth zombie that had joined her small group and shouldering her out of the way. Anthony sat back on his haunches and put his head in his hands. "They will not touch them," he silently vowed as he looked across the room at the sleeping twins.

He neither moved nor made a sound for several long minutes after the small band of walkers departed, his brain busy going through all the things the zombie hadn't said. His eyes finally darted to the rifle leaning against the door frame and back to the window. He sighed and shook his head. Dropping the walkers would possibly bring more on them and he wasn't going to risk it.

Zack and Cody roused themselves a short while later and he was relieved. "You okay?" Cody asked when he saw the way Anthony was slouched in the chair.

"I'm good," he replied, having pushed the earlier encounter and its afterthoughts from his mind. "There were some zombies out in the street a while ago and they hung around for a little bit before they wandered off."

"How close?" Zack asked, going from barely awake to serious in a matter of seconds. Anthony wondered if the boy even knew his hand was reaching under his pillow for a pistol or if it was instinct.

"They were on the other side of the street and went up the block. I think they know we're somewhere around here.

"Then we shouldn't be here if they come back," Zack said as he pulled a shirt over his head. "We'll stop and eat breakfast after we've put some miles behind us."

They walked through street after street of nearly identical houses, cookie cutters as Anthony's mother had called them, and he couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched. He craned his neck to take in as much as he could, looking deep inside windows or in the branches of trees or the shattered back windows of a beat up Chevy Cavalier. He saw nothing but the feeling grew.

As they moved, he realized they weren't being watched at all. They were being _sensed_. Goosebumps ran up and down his arms and he fought back a total body shiver. He knew it was only his mind playing tricks on him but he couldn't ignore the feeling that there was a mass of walkers nearby. "Stop for a minute," he said, closing his eyes and straining to hear any noises in the still morning. The twins passed questioning looks between themselves but froze in place. "They're close."

Zack tightened his grip on his shotgun and nodded. He looked around in hopes of finding more information to add to Anthony's vague warning. They walked on, their steps slightly quieter than before and their eyes a fraction more attentive. The sidewalk seemed to grow exponentially long.

Anthony raised the first alarm. "There! By the house with the green shutters!" He pointed to a house a few doors down the road and across the street.

"End of the block, too!" Cody yelled.

"Shit," Zack muttered as he took in the situation. They were boxed in on two sides and their only escape route would take them through narrow neighborhood streets that might be just as infested.

"They're moving fast. We've got to go," Anthony said, his already high voice raising another octave in fear. He was stuck halfway between pulling the rifle from his shoulder and turning and running. His eyes widened as his legs turned to lead.

Zack saw that he was right with one fast look. These weren't the usual walkers that he was expecting or used to. They weren't what he feared most, _runners, _but they were almost joggers. He slung the shotgun over his shoulder and pulled his pistol out and fired off a few rounds into the nearest group. Three dropped and another stumbled in the dying echoes.

"Come on!" he screamed, grabbing Anthony by the back of the shirt and dragging him along when the boy's feet seemed rooted in the concrete.

Time slowed down and breaths seemed at a premium as Anthony struggled to regain control of his body. He nearly fell a number of times before his limbs would completely listen to his commands. He was vaguely aware of Cody calmly walking backwards and pumping round after round into the advancing throng to buy them time to get away. His eyes fixated on one empty shotgun shell as it was ejected and tumbled through the air before everything swam back into focus in a rush.

"That's good enough, Cody," Zack called, "let's get out of here!" Cody reloaded on the run and quickly caught up with the two of them.

Their meandering path took them through street after residential street and what appeared to be an industrial park before they slowed to a fast walk. Anthony could feel his heart hammering in his chest as his massive adrenaline surge came to an abrupt end.

"Cody, Zack, I'm sorry about what happened back there," he said when he could finally manage. "I couldn't move."

Cody slid an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close. "Hey, it happens," he told the younger boy nonchalantly. "Zack's done the same for me, I've done the same for him, you'll do the same for us."

That made him feel both better and worse. Not even two hours ago he'd vowed that he'd do whatever he could to protect the brothers and they ended up saving him when he froze up. Anthony swore behind closed lips.

"Don't worry about it," Zack said kindly. "Like Cody said, we've both done it. We were somewhere just outside Boston when a bunch of zombies jumped us and I couldn't move a muscle. It felt like someone had carved me out of stone. Cody grabbed my hand and pulled me along. No harm, no foul, right, kiddo?"

"I guess," Anthony replied, completely unconvinced he hadn't just failed a crucial test. He looked between the brothers for any hint of displeasure with him and came away with none. He furrowed his brows and thought as they walked.

"...stop up there and grab a quick breakfast. Or lunch or whatever," he heard Zack say as they walked across a massive parking lot. He looked up from the ground and saw Zack pointing to what had to be a massive, multi-floored hospital.

"Sounds good," Cody replied. "Maybe have a quick peek inside after we're done and see what might be sitting around for us, too. What do you think, Anthony?"

"Yeah," he hesitated, "that sounds good to me."

The matter settled, they approached the stand of trees separating the rows of buildings from the hospital and filed through. The front of the structure was too full of hiding spots for Zack's liking, with the ribbons of asphalt broken by overgrown bushes and trees and high grasses that blocked large areas from view. They headed around to the back of the building in hopes of more open areas.

"You know what I could really go for right about now?" Zack asked as they skulked past the doors that led to the ER. "Deep dish pizza. Piled high with cheese and a pound of sausage per slice. Enough tomato sauce to... " his voice abruptly ceased as they finally reached the back of the building.

"Holy shit," Cody croaked as Anthony clutched at his arm and grabbed tight.

The back lot of the hospital had large receiving docks and wide expanses of concrete and nearly every available inch of open space was piled high with bodies wrapped in white sheets. A Dumpster was filled past capacity and three corpses were danging halfway to the ground. Cody took a look at the grounds and his first thought was that the bodies were stacked like cords of firewood. Clouds of flies buzzed around, thick enough in some places to veil the sheets in a deep black.

"We'll...wow," Zack finally said. "We can go down through that little path between the bodies and find somewhere else to eat."

"I can't," Anthony said in a whisper. "I can't go through there." His knuckles went white around Cody's elbow as he took in the sight. The bodies were five high in some places and splotches of red colored the white field as far as he could see. "I can't." He shook his head and took a partial step behind Cody.

"I don't blame you," Cody said as he moved to block the boy's view completely. "We can go around, right, Zack?" the look he gave his brother told that it was not a question.

"Yeah, we can do that." Zack's mind was already reversing their course and trying to find a way that would take them around the hospital without taking them too far out of their way. It took him a few more seconds to tear his eyes away from the bodies. "C'mon, let's get out of here. This place feels wrong."

Zack led the way with Cody and Anthony trailing close behind. Cody spared one final glance over his shoulder but stopped Anthony from doing the same. "Seeing it once was enough," he told the boy as he put a hand on the back of his neck and steered him along.

"So how many of the bodies were normal people and not zombies they finished off?" Cody asked his brother while Anthony was relieving himself a discreet distance away. He took a bite of cold soup from a can with one eye on the stand of bushes Anthony had headed to.

"No more than half, I think. Who knows what all went on here before they got overrun. If we'd pulled back the sheets I guarantee you we'd have seen all sorts of injuries, not just bites. I bet they ran through supplies lightning quick once things got hairy."

"Probably," Cody agreed. "You aren't mad at Anthony for earlier, are you?"

"No, why would I be?"

"You haven't said much to him since we left the hospital and stopped for lunch."

"I haven't said much to you, either. I've just been thinking about things. I'm not mad at him."

"He just got spooked, that's all."

"Yeah, I get it, Cody. I'm not mad."

"Not for the zombies either, right?"

"Cody, listen very carefully to what I'm about to say. I'm not mad at him. Not at all. He's only nine so how could I blame him for freezing up when a wall of gomers get the drop on us? Hell, he shouldn't even have to be worrying about things like that now. He should be thinking about what time his favorite cartoon comes on or who his teacher is going to be next year instead of worrying about getting munched by a goddamn zombie."

"Good. I just wanted to be sure you were okay with everything."

Zack let out a dramatic sigh. "Okay, if you bring it up again I'm going to be mad at you. Not your son," Zack grinned, "but you. Got it?"

Cody smiled back. "I got it. Speaking of, here he comes. I was just about to go after him."

"Hey kid," Zack called out to the boy, "you didn't wipe with poison ivy, did you?"

"No!" Anthony said. "At least I don't think I did."

"Well, you'll know for sure in a few hours."

Ten minutes later they were moving on again. They hadn't had much luck finding a car they could take and the early afternoon heat was beginning to wear on them. Their hair was matted to their heads and their shirts were stuck to their backs.

"This is ridiculous," Zack said as he took a long pull from a water bottle. "Why couldn't zombies have happened in the spring or fall?"

"Not winter?" Cody asked.

"No, winter sucks, too. I'd complain more if we were walking in the snow. We've got to figure out how to hot wire a car or something. If we keep going much longer today, the bottom of my boots are going to start sticking to the pavement." Zack raised a foot and caught it with a hand to take a fast glance at the sole just to be sure they weren't already melting.

"I guess it's a good thing we're on the home stretch then," Cody told them. "Even if we don't find another car to drive, it won't take us but maybe another two weeks to walk to Kansas. Three weeks, tops." Zack made an _oh, only two or three weeks? _gesture.

"Assuming we can find a way across the Mississippi if the bridge is blown," Anthony piped in.

"Assuming that," Cody admitted.

"We will," Zack said confidently. "I don't care if we have to raid someone's backyard pool and take their foam noodles and float across."

"We might end up in New Orleans if we do that."

"That's okay, Cody. Maybe we can toss a few beads to the pretty ladies while we're down there." Zack pantomimed throwing handfuls of beaded necklaces to girls on second story balconies.

"Huh?" Anthony asked, perplexed.

"Don't worry about it, Anthony," Cody laughed. "I'm pretty sure we've already missed Mardi Gras but even if we didn't, I doubt they'd have much you want to see, Zack. Then again..."

"I wonder if you could have s-"

"Anyway," Cody interrupted his brother with a look of _shut your face_ before Zack's stream-of-consciousness ramble led to places Anthony didn't need to know about. Zack returned the glare with a smile and a shrug.

As they walked and checked cars, Anthony was quiet, answering questions directed at him but generally zoning out and thinking. Zack wasn't upset with him as far as he could tell. If anything, he was going out of his way to make sure Anthony knew he wasn't. He wondered if Cody had said something while he was taking care of nature's call. He also wondered where he'd picked up the headache that was slowly working its way from one side of his skull to the other and was moving farther from _annoying _and closerto _blinding _with every step.

He mopped a drop of sweat from his brow with the sleeve of his shirt and exhaled slowly. No matter what Zack might have said and despite Cody's usual kind words and almost parental affection, he still felt like he'd let them down twice. _And the day is far from over, _he told himself crossly. He'd made the encounter with the zombies much, much closer than it needed to be and made them take a longer route around the hospital just because he couldn't handle walking through an outdoor morgue. _Stupid. _He wasn't being much of a help at all. He remembered his first dream and frowned.

Anthony bit back on those thoughts and resolved himself to act right and stop being a burden. He pulled a water bottle from his pocket and it doubled and trebled in his vision as he tried to grab the cap to turn it. "Wow," he said as he shook his head in an attempt to clear it. His eyesight returned to normal for a few seconds before colorful motes began dancing before him.

"Are you okay, Anthony?" Cody asked.

"Yeah, just got a little dizzy all of a sudden."

"Should we take a break? Cool off and rest up for a while?"

"No, once I get this bottle open and get a drink I'll be okay," he told them just before the ground began rushing up before his eyes. He distantly heard one of the twins yelling and felt a jolt of pain as he hit the ground.

Cody was on his knees beside the boy in a second and Zack was right beside him. Cody reached down and felt his neck. "His pulse is racing and his skin is as dray as a bone," he said with alarm. He yanked the duffel strap from the boy's shoulders and lifted him, looking around for the nearest patch of shade. Zack, wide-eyed and out of his league, grabbed the pack and followed his brother.

"What's wrong with him?" he asked once Cody had the boy's shirt off and settled comfortably.

"He either has heat stroke or is close enough to it that it doesn't matter. Give me your water bottle and take his shoes and socks off." Zack did exactly as he was told. Cody took the boy's shirt, emptied Zack's bottle on it, and put it across Anthony's forehead. He took his own bottle and poured most of it over the boy's body, taking care to soak his shorts.

"Is he going to be okay?"

"I hope so. What he really needs is ice, air conditioning, and maybe an ambulance but we'll have to make due with what we have. How much water do we have left?"

Zack rummaged through their bags. "Three twenty ouncers, what's left in his, and what you have in yours."

"That's barely enough for _one_ of us on a day like this," Cody frowned. "Maybe not even enough." He daubed the shirt around Anthony's head before holding it over his chest and wringing it out. Zack swore he could almost see the water evaporating from Anthony's belly before his eyes. Cody took off his hat and began fanning the boy. "We've got to be smarter about this. We're lucky this hasn't happened before now."

"I thought only little kids and old people had to worry about this," Zack said as he took over fanning while Cody poured more water on the boy.

"They're the most at risk but everyone has to be careful on a day like this. If it's not close to one-ten I'd be surprised," Cody told him. "He might be nine but he isn't much bigger than we were at seven. And we were short."

"Maybe walking in the winter wouldn't be such a bad idea after all," Zack said softly.

"Nah, then we'd have to worry about frostbite. We'll make it."

They sat quietly for the next hour, Cody sitting cross-legged against a tree with Anthony's head resting on his shins, while they gradually lowered the boy's body temperature. Cody would occasionally check his pulse and nod as it began to drop back to normal. He looked down and saw Anthony's eyelids begin to flutter.

"Hey buddy, how are you feeling?" he asked.

"Better, I think. I passed out, didn't I, Cody?"

"You did. Heat stroke, if I had to make a guess."

"I'm going to be okay, right?"

"You'll be fine. We're going to take it easy for the rest of the day and try it again in the morning."

"I don't want to slow us down. I can go right now. Watch." Anthony started pushing himself up and Cody leaned forward and put a hand on his chest to stop him.

"I'm sure you can but you're not going to."

"But there's," he quickly looked at his watch, "a good six hours of sun left. We can probably get out of Indiana before the sun goes down if we leave now." He tried to rise again but Cody didn't move his hand.

"Hey hey, calm down."

"Cody's right," Zack said. "You need to rest up. We could use some down-time as well. Besides, Illinois will be there tomorrow," Zack told him as he handed over a bottle of water.

"I can go, really," Anthony said again. He had stopped trying to stand up but looked at the twins with pleading eyes.

Zack and Cody exchanged a worried glance before Cody spoke. "What's wrong, Anthony? What's got you so determined to move on?"

The boy didn't answer immediately. He was mulling over his words, deciding how much of his inner fear to expose. He looked up into Cody's concerned eyes and swallowed. All or nothing. "I don't want you to leave me behind if I slow you down."

"What gives you the idea that we'd do that?" Cody asked after taking in the words.

"Why wouldn't you? If I'm not any good, why would you keep me around? I'd be dead weight."

"We'd keep you around because we like you, Anthony," Zack told him. "You're like the brother I really wanted." he winked at the boy. Cody grinned and gave Zack a gesture of playful disapproval.

"We won't abandon you no matter what, Anthony. Okay?" Cody looked down at him and didn't say another word until Anthony nodded. "Ever. You're one of us now, for better or worse."

"Part of the team," Zack added. "And the rest of the team wants you to chill out for the day, got it?" he awkwardly patted Anthony's leg before deciding to leave the touchy-feely stuff to his brother since Cody was better at it.

"Okay." Anthony knew when to give in. Cody pulled him up into his lap and gave him a half-hug. Antony relaxed into it and smiled a real smile.

"Once you drain that bottle we're going to go find somewhere nice and cool and lay low."

"Maybe we should start moving at night again," Zack said. "If it's going to stay this hot, it'll be dangerous to move if we can't find a car."

"Zombies are more active at night for whatever reason," Cody reminded him. "But it could work out better for us that way. We'd sleep during the heat of the day, hopefully, at least, and then be awake when the zombies on the prowl." He borrowed Anthony's bottle and took a sip before continuing. "Of course, we'll also be more exposed to them if we're up and moving at night instead of holed up in a house."

"I think that's a chance that's worth taking. What if we're traveling tomorrow at this time and I haven't drank enough water and pass out when there's zombies around? I know I've lost weight but I'll still be hard to carry with a bunch of gomers on your tail," Zack said as he pulled his shirt up and showed off his much smaller belly.

"Point taken," Cody said.

"So we find a cool place to rest up in, find enough water to get ourselves right again, and then move on later tonight?" Zack asked.

"I vote yes," Cody said and looked at Anthony for his opinion.

"It sounds good to me."

"That was easy." Zack stood up and the others joined him. Anthony put his shoes back on but left off the shirt. He reached for the bag he'd been carrying but was beaten to it by Zack.

"Not this time, kiddo. I've got it." he waved a finger when he saw Anthony was going to protest. "I've got it. You can carry it again tomorrow. Maybe I'll put some rocks in it or something so you'll feel better about it," he said with a grin.

"Or maybe you won't!" Anthony replied, laughing with him.

_Well, I've now written this chapter twice and I'm not sure I like it as much as the first time. Long story short, someone got my computer sick and it decided to eat a bunch of files. Awesome, right? I guess the good that came out of all that is that it gave me time to think more about the story and it just got a little longer than it would have if I'd not have had to write it again. _

_Anyway, sorry for the delay._


	19. Chapter 19

A yell shook Carey from her sleep. She opened her eyes and squinted into the darkness of her temporary room, trying to discover its source. A second screech and a laugh followed in short order and she could see tongues of flame through the remains of a mangled curtain. Now almost instantly awake, Carey threw her clothes on and slipped the vest over her head as fast as she could. She heard another shout that, by the sound of it, couldn't have come from more than a block or two away.

"What the hell is going on?" she asked quietly as she picked up her small pack and slung it over her shoulder. She paused to take a peek out the window and saw a number of buildings a handful of blocks over burning. Carey cursed humanity as she picked up the shotgun and began her descent from her high-rise apartment.

She reached the bottom of the stairs and only vaguely remembered barricading the doors the previous day. She pulled couches and other heavy furnishings from the doorway and cracked the door enough to eyeball the street. Her finger tightened on the gun's trigger when she saw a gang of shadows moving much too gingerly to be zombies. Another building caught fire after one of the shades lobbed a flaming bottle against its wooden facade.

"I swear to..whoever...why did the zombies have to take all the normal people but leave morons like that running around?" she muttered as she pushed the door closed and made for the rear entrance. Carey was half-tempted to turn back around and go dispense some Old West-style justice on them but it was a passing thought. She gritted her teeth as she began unblocking the other door.

Carey stepped out into a side street and immediately dusted ash from her shoulders. She looked up and saw it was falling like snow and wondered exactly how much of this city was ablaze. Carey shook her head and crept along the building's wall, careful to stay in the shadows lest she come across more of the self-appointed urban renewal experts.

Now that she had escaped what could have been a fiery end, Carey's adrenaline rush began to ebb and she realized that she only hurt fractionally less than she had the day before. Before she had turned in for the night, she'd made the mistake of looking at the massive bruise that being shot in the chest by a hand cannon from less than ten yards away had given her and had grimaced. It was already ugly, a sickly yellow and purple mixture, and she could only imagine what it would look like in another few days.

"Still don't know how a glorified coffee mug saved my life but I'm okay with that," Carey said as she tapped the ballistic ceramic plating in her vest for the hundredth time. It was shattered now but it had done its job. As she walked, Carey pulled the bottle of pain relievers from a pocket and dry-swallowed a few. The pain hadn't dug its claws in her yet but it would. Definitely would. She was determined to give it as small a foothold on her body as she could.

Carey had nearly reached the outskirts of the city in a half hour of skulking but she had to duck behind an overturned Dumpster when she heard more of her firebugs coming around a corner. She crouched down, one knee right beside what had to be the remains of a Diaper Genie, when they came into view. The were each swinging a plastic Walmart bag full of glass bottles and she could smell the gasoline on them. "Molotovs. Viva la resistance." Carey raised a comradely fist in front of her and turned it into a one-fingered salute.

She watched as they passed out of sight and in front of her hiding spot and felt the urge of blowing the backs of their heads through their nose evaporate when she saw how young they were. The twins' age. Maybe a year older, tops. Not old enough to shave yet. "I ought to spank your asses raw..." she whispered as they appeared again on the other side of the bin. She took some deep breaths and let them pass with just a shake of her head.

Once she was sure they were gone, Carey stood up and felt her back twinge. She grunted and stretched the muscles as much as she could before moving on again. As much as she tried to prevent it, Carey's mind kept drifting back to the boys she'd just seen and then on to her own. She knew, _knew, _that her sons wouldn't do that so why were those two? What was so different? She scowled as she walked through the last vestiges of the town and into the suburbs.

_Maybe they've given up,_ her brain said long after she thought the conversation was over. _They don't have anything left to live for so they're doing things they always fantasized about but never did in the normal world. _Carey slowed her gait and considered that point. Zack and Cody knew, or at least believed, that she'd somehow make her way out of New York City and find them at their aunt's farm. They had hope, a reason to go on putting one foot in front of the other. The kids back in Covington? Maybe they'd seen their parents get eaten before their eyes and figured there wasn't anything remotely good for them on the horizon. Maybe they'd just given up and were waiting for their time to run out.

Carey sighed as she pulled her water from the pack. That just wasn't fair. "Shit," she said after a long pull from the bottle. She stopped in her tracks and looked back the way she'd came. Somewhere behind her were two kids that, as far as she could tell, weren't even carrying guns walking through a zombie-infested city. It pulled on her heart strings and it took everything in her power to stop from going after them. She rationalized it by telling herself that they could be anywhere in the city by now and, just in case she forgot, there were hundreds or thousands of walking dead roaming around. "Shit," she said again. "Why didn't I say something when I saw them?"

Carey put the lid back on the bottle with as much malice as she could and jammed it back into her pack. There was no point in recriminations, she knew, but it still dug at her. She shook her head and started walking again, determined to get out of the shadows of the city and find a car as quickly as she could. As she walked, Carey reviewed her route in her mind. Louisville was the next major city she'd come across and it wasn't that far away, an hour and change if she remembered right. She hadn't made the drive in years but was fairly sure that Louisville hadn't moved all that much.

"I've got to figure out how to hot wire a car," she said as she leaned against the fender of a Neon. "They always make it look so easy in the movies. Just cross a few wires and then poke something with a screwdriver. Where are you when I need you, Nicholas Cage?" she asked with a smile.

It didn't take long for her to revert to her old habit of looking for cars in driveways and then breaking into a house to hopefully find a key. It had worked before it and sure beat trying her luck on the sides of the road. Carey found a likely neighborhood and got to work looking and was rewarded in less than ten minutes. She pulled the truck out of the driveway and maneuvered to the highway before she put the hammer down.

Carey made her way down I-71 and noticed that it was easily the clearest highway she'd been on. There were a few cars here and there but the majority seemed to have been moved and dumped unceremoniously on the sides of the road. The miles to the city rolled down as she passed the road signs. Carey suddenly slammed her hand on the steering wheel as the possibility of the bridges across the river being out occurred to her for the first time.

"Oh they'd better not be. I'm tired of stealing cars."

But they were. Coming into the city from a different direction than her sons, Carey had a better view of the river and all the sections of bridge decking that laid in it. "Son of a-...fine. Whatever." She mumbled a slew of choice words as she headed down a ramp. She'd turned off the exit and gone less than a mile before one of the front tires blew out. "Oh you have got to be kidding me," she yelled over the flapping of loose rubber. The truck was becoming hard to control and she stopped it and got out.

Carey gazed up and down the street and figured that it wasn't her day. The truck had brought her as far as the beginnings of the downtown area and the adjacent riverfront, but there was nothing but partially demolished warehouses and broken glass and empty streets. "Tomorrow will be better," she told herself as she started walking down the blacktop. "No, this afternoon will be better." She nearly added _because it can't get any worse _but stopped since it most definitely could.

Carey only had to shoot two zombies while she walked the street and that surprised her. She'd been there a time or two for Derby and knew it wasn't as small a city as many people assumed. "They're probably all down at the track drinking a brain julep or something," she said to herself as she finally got another view of the river. "Or tailgating."

The sound of a motor broke her out of her reverie and Carey instantly looked around for anywhere to hide but found nothing close. She unslung the shotgun and head it ready as the truck approached. "I dare you," she said into the rumble of the engine, "try something."

The truck slowed and veered to the center of the road and Carey brought the gun up a little higher in her arms. She wasn't aiming it yet but it would only take a fraction of a second to point it at the truck and pull the trigger. "Be cool, Carey," she told herself as it idled to a stop a few feet away from her. Her eyes widened as she saw the driver and passenger were no older than her boys and for a brief instant, thought that they were the kids she'd seen earlier in the day. The gun dipped slightly in her hands when she saw they were just as nervous as she was.

"Pardon me, ma'am, but we were wondering if you'd like a ride," the driver said.

"Usually I'd tell you to come back when you can grow a beard and try that pick-up line again but this time I'll make an exception if you're going somewhere with a boat."

"We are."

"Really?" Carey was a little surprised.

"Yep," the passenger chirped, his voice still high.

_They're so young, _Carey thought as she pondered her response. "Well consider me Mrs. Daisy."

"Huh?"

"That's a yes," she said as she stepped onto the truck's running boards and latched a hand on the door frame. The boy hit the gas and Carey swore she heard one of them whisper "she's kinda hot" as they drove away. She grinned.

The drive back took longer than she expected. The truck had to navigate an obstacle course of shattered streets and burned out roadblocks before finally arriving at the compound. Carey and the boys traded small talk as they drove and she was nearly thrown from the truck when the driver swerved in shock when she told them her name after learning theirs.

"There is no way," Nate said when he'd regained control.

"Freaky," the other boy added.

"What's freaky and why is there no way?"

Nate stopped the truck and looked at her through the open window. "You are Carey Martin?" Carey nodded and waited for him to continue. It dawned on her the second he began to speak again. _He's seen the boys! _"You wouldn't happen to have a set of blond twins and a little dark-haired boy on a journey to Kansas or somewhere else really flat, would you?"

"You've seen them?" she asked, her mind too overwhelmed to notice the addition of another in her sons' group. Her heart expanded in her chest and she gripped the door tightly. They'd seen them! Every night she'd spend in bed looking up at the ceiling and wondering...

"They were here. Right here. Not even a day ago."

Carey felt like she was going to faint. She'd crossed almost half the country, traveled who knows how many miles across the United States of Zombieland, and she'd missed her boys by less than twenty-four hours. "How much faster can this truck go, Nate?" she asked, urging him to find out when he wasn't sure.

"Give me the radio, Jimmy. We should be close enough now," he said after they'd meandered through the warren of streets and finally had the colony in sight. Jimmy dutifully handed it over as Nate began making his way up the road. "Yeah, it's me," he said after a garbled voice blasted out the speaker. "Get me Ben. He's not going to believe who we have with us."

Carey looked the place over as they went up the switchbacks. It looked like a house that had been turned into a small fortress. Gun emplacements sat on sandbags at the top of the hill and she was sure she saw the glint of a scope coming from the roof. She looked again but whoever was there had either moved or shifted their aim. And what were those black lines on the hillside? They looked fairly new.

Minutes later they were parked and Carey hopped off and turned to the small crowd that was approaching. Nate and Jimmy got out and stood beside her. "Carey Martin?" the apparent leader said when he stopped a few feet away. His hand was hovering near a pistol strapped to his leg, making no move to grab it but obviously on alert.

"That would be me."

"It seems your reputation precedes you, Ms. Martin."

"Whatever it is that the twins broke, I'm sure I can help you find a new one," she said, instantly falling into damage control mode as she had a hundred times before with Moseby.

"No, it's not that. Not hardly."

"Oh, I'm sure they broke something. You probably just haven't found it yet," she told him and he laughed.

"Why don't you come inside and I can fill you in on the details that I'm sure you're dying to hear." Carey nodded and followed him, the others in the posse forming up behind her.

"As I'm sure Nate told you, your three boys were here yesterday-"

"Wait...three?" Nate's earlier statement flashed through her head. She'd been too emotional to register it at the time. "Either I had a kid I don't remember somewhere along the line or they picked up a stray."

"I'm fairly certain it was the latter, Carey." She was pretty sure his eyes had just roamed over her figure and she felt her cheeks blushing slightly. "Little black haired boy, maybe eight, maybe nine. Seventy pounds with lead bars in his pockets and holding two gallons of milk."

"Definitely the latter." She wasn't overly surprised that they'd picked up an orphan on their way. Neither boy would leave someone like that alone, especially not Cody. He had a caring streak a mile wide for little underdogs like that. "Were they okay? Healthy? They weren't hurt, were they?"

"As far as I could tell, they seemed in good health. A little skinny, maybe, definitely in need of a hair cut, but nothing bad."

"That's good news," she said and meant it.

"It would have been even better news if they were still here today. I, we, tried to get them to stay with us at least for a while to rest up. I can't even imagine what all they've been through coming all the way from Boston. It's been bad enough here."

"Coming out of the east coast was...an adventure, to be honest. I still sometimes wonder how I managed to get out of there in one piece."

"Some of us are survivors, Carey. You, me, the people in this compound," he gestured around. "When push comes to shove, we shove back."

"Very true. No zombie is going to stop me until I find my boys," she told him.

"You hear that, Nate? Never mess with a momma grizzly." The boy nodded and grinned.

"I'm waiting for a Sarah Palin joke, Ben. I really am," Carey said, keeping a straight face for all of two seconds.

"I can see Indiana from my house," he deadpanned and rolled his eyes. "Bet she and her ilk are safe from the zombies. No brains and all that. Anyway, you arrived just in time for lunch. After that, we'll see about getting you across the river."

Carey had thought that her days of eating fresh baked bread were over but she was wrong. Lunch consisted mainly of deer on a bun and a ladle of beans from a huge pot but it was the best thing she'd had since she'd left for New York City so many weeks ago. That was good but the cold beer that Ben brought out for dessert blew her away.

"You have a refrigerator?" she asked as she nursed it.

"Several. We run them on solar and diesel. Took a while to get it all set up right but it works fine."

"I bet Cody would have loved to get his hands on your system."

"He did. He and Anthony, that's the other boy's name, by the way, spent quite a while studying it before they left. Looked like he was committing it all to memory."

Carey laughed. "I bet if they beat me to the farm I'll arrive to a fully powered house."

"I wouldn't be surprised. He seemed like a very bright young man."

"He is." She was tempted to give him examples of just how bright her son was when a siren went off.

"Walkers!" Beer forgotten, Ben shouted and lunged for a nearby rack of rifles. He picked up one and hesitated before tossing another to her. "Can you shoot this?"

"An M-16? Yes. I had a crash course when we were trying to get out of Brooklyn." She caught the gun and followed him out the door, grabbing two extra magazines from the table as she passed.

"What's the story?" Ben called as they stepped into daylight. She saw a group of five take cover behind a wall of earth and begin popping off rounds down the hill.

"Either the walkers have learned to snip wires or we have a bad connection down there somewhere along the perimeter. The alarm never went off until I triggered it myself," a woman said as she ran by.

"How far up are they?"

"The lead walkers were halfway up the hill before I saw them."

"Great," Ben said. "Get patrols on all sides of the hill, even overlooking the river. If we've got a fault in our tripwires they could be everywhere. And get ready to light the trenches." The woman nodded and took off, barking orders. A mini gun wound up somewhere and began lacing the slope with hundreds of rounds a minute. The building emptied and dozens of guns pointed down at the mass of zombies and opened fire. Carey joined one of the boys she'd met earlier as he scrambled into the back of a truck bed to get a better view.

"This happen often?" she asked as she fired a short burst.

"Never," Nate answered, echoing her rounds with his own. "We knew it eventually would, though.

"It's the beer," Carey said with a laugh. "They can't resist it."

"Yeah, that's it!"

"You're supposed to answer that they can have it because it's nasty or something," Carey said as she aimed.

"Thirteen is the new twenty-one these days," he replied and unloaded a burst.

As she shot, Carey noticed how many there were and her skin crawled. Thousands of them, slowly and stupidly coming up the hill at her. Each time she lined one up in her sights and blew its head apart, three more filled its spot. This was going to be a very interesting afternoon.

The mass of undead had almost reached the summit of their little hill when she heard Ben shouting. "Fill 'em and flame 'em!" he yelled and she watched as the person nearest a gasoline tanker run to it and start turning the handle on a large valve. A hose went stiff with pressure and the astringent smell of gas reached her nose as she saw black troughs fill and then overflow with the liquid. _Aah._

"Poor man's flamethrower," Ben said as he came near her truck. "Watch this." he motioned to the truck and the gas was shut off. Seconds later something flaming sailed over her head and a gigantic _whoooosh! _ripped the air and Carey could feel the heat on her face as the whole hillside erupted in flames.

"Holy shit," was all that she could say as the flames spread and engulfed every zombie unlucky enough to have been doused with the running gasoline. She watched them as they stumbled aimlessly and thought that the movie directors had got at least that part right. Their hands were up and they moaned almost piteously as their foul skin melted away.

The shots tapered off and finally came to a halt as the zombies began falling by the hundreds. The smell...Carey finally noticed how awful it was. Burnt, rotten meat. She breathed through her mouth so she wouldn't gag.

"I was hoping we'd never have to use that," Ben said as the last hundred or so zombies fell over and smoldered.

"Well, for an ace up your sleeve, that was a pretty good one," she told him. "What are you going to do about the bodies? Leave them?"

"Even if they didn't stink we couldn't leave them there. Walker bodies, burned or otherwise, seem to attract more walkers. So we liberated a bulldozer from a construction site just for an occasion like this."

"A mass grave," Carey said coolly.

"Exactly. But we're going to let them sit and cook for a little while just to make sure that they're all good and dead and stay in the ground when we put them there. While they're roasting, let's see about getting you over the river."

A short while later she was standing on the deck of their boat and marveling at the guns mounted at each end. "Wow."

"That's about the same thing your boys said when they saw our modifications."

"They're very impressive, that's for sure," she said as the engines sputtered to life. The lines were cast off and the boat began moving away from the dock.

"I should start charging fares for all the people I've been taking across the river lately," the pilot joked as he steered the boat out into open water.

"Do you take Visa?" Carey asked and he laughed.

Just like the previous day, he took the boat a mile or so down the coast from where the bridge suddenly ended and came to a stop near a dock that had seen better days before the twins were born. The two men manning the machine guns were getting ready to open up and make sure there weren't any surprises waiting for her when she stopped them.

"Just in case my boys are over there somewhere," she explained.

"But ma'am..."

"I'm a big girl, I can handle myself. Plus, listen." she cupped a hand to her ear and heard nothing over the puttering of the motors. "It's clear."

"You sure? I really don't mind." the man lovingly stroked the barrel of the machine gun.

"I'm sure. Thank you for getting me across the river. I don't know how to thank you."

"Just find those boys, ma'am."

"I will," she said as she shook hands.

They watched as she climbed onto the deck and made her way up the gentle slope and disappeared into the trees. Carey heard the boat leave as she made it to the top. She scanned the area and saw a single road and began to follow it, hoping that it would take her somewhere she could find a ride quickly.

The road grew larger and there were soon houses on the horizon. _Good, _she thought. Houses meant cars and cars meant she could make up more ground on her kids, all three of them, before the sun went down.

How far could they go in a day? She had to assume that they'd figured out how to drive or else they'd still be...where, exactly? Probably barely out of Pennsylvania. And unless they were supremely lucky or had inherited the hot wiring gene from Kurt, they had to be having the same problem finding transportation as she was. She laughed at the thought of either of her boys trying to drive a stick.

She walked past the first group of buildings after deciding that they didn't look very promising and kept going until a sign for a truck stop appeared off in the distance. She felt a smile creep across her face as she saw more than a handful of big rigs sitting in its parking lot, all their chrome winking at her in the sun. "Perfect."

Carey picked up her pace and nearly jogged down the road. She paused across the street from the stop and crouched behind a car and surveyed the building and the immediate surroundings. She wished for a pair of binoculars but as far as she could see, the area was clear. Carey stood up and crept to the parking lot, eyes and ears alert. The nearest row of trucks was only a few dozen yards away but her attention was drawn to the building itself.

She was low on supplies and, knowing what all could be found in a truck stop from first-hand experience with Kurt when the band was just starting out and were touring in an old Volkswagen bus, couldn't resist going inside.

Carey pushed the door open with a shoulder and moved inside. It was quiet and she relaxed slightly as she began walking around. She filled up her pack with water bottles and high calorie junk food and walked past what seemed like acres of chrome accessories. She noticed a glass counter near the center of the store and headed that way. Sunglasses and knives mostly, she saw as she stepped up to it. "I've never had a pair of Oakleys before," she said as she smashed the case with the butt of the gun and grabbed a pair, shuddering when she saw the price tag hanging off one of the ear pieces.

"Two hundred dollars? No wonder I've never had a pair." She began peeling the label off. "Attention shoppers, today only, all sunglasses are free," she said as she put them on her head. She smashed another case and picked up a nicely sized knife and turned it over in her hands. "Knives are free, too," she said in her announcer voice as she stuck it back in its sheath. She'd find a way to attach it to her vest later. Her gaze briefly settled on a rack of mesh trucker hats and she laughed. "I don't care if they are free, no way." Satisfied with her new purchases, Carey stealthily crept outside.

She was halfway to the line of big trucks when she saw a much smaller white tow truck sitting near the gas pumps. Carey altered her course slightly and looked inside and grinned when she saw the keys hanging in the ignition. She opened the door and slung her bag in the passenger seat and climbed in. As the motor warmed up she thought maybe the trucker hat wouldn't have been such a bad idea after all.

"Breaker one, breaker one," she said, holding an imaginary CB, "this is Crazy Cooter comin' atcha." Carey checked the gas gauge and saw she had three quarters of a tank. That was good. That might get her all the way to the edge of the Mississippi river. She was under no illusions of there being a bridge over the river after what she'd seen so far. "And," she added, "if I need to, I can clear my own path if I get stuck in traffic. Assuming I can figure out how to run the hook."

Carey put the truck in gear and pulled out of the lot and merged onto the highway. She had gas, she had sunlight, and she had the knowledge that somewhere ahead of here were her twins. "And Anthony," she said to herself as the wind whipped her hair. "I want to meet that boy."

_I think that I got a big old dose of ADD each time I sat down to write this chapter. I found myself wasting time on Wikipedia looking up the most obscure things (I can now tell you waaay too much about molten salt or Earth's Proterozoic Peroid if you're interested) and almost entirely plotting out my next big thing (a lengthy TSL story set in the Star Wars universe) instead of doing this. But it's done. Thanks for reading!_


	20. Chapter 20

Anthony was sleeping fitfully on a bed in the back bedroom and Zack was busying himself in the kitchen while Cody dozed in a rocking chair. He'd been up for almost two hours after a lengthy nap and had had the house to himself while Zack and Anthony sleep. _Brothers, _Cody had thought, _I have two brothers now. Family is more than blood. _ He'd spent his time reloading their magazines and scavenging through the house for anything useful before calling it off and sitting back in the chair. He didn't think he was tired enough to fall asleep again but was proved wrong in less than five minutes.

"Hey, wake up, Cody. Wake up." Cody opened one eye to see a mass of sleep-tousled black hair and brown eyes mere inches from his own.

"Okay, I'm up," he said as he leaned forward and pushed Anthony back a bit. "Nice bed head, kid. You need a hair cut."

"You do, too," he squeaked.

"We'll stop at the next barber we find," Zack said from the other room. "There usually isn't much waiting at eleven at night so we can probably walk right in." He came out with three two-liter bottles filled with boiled water and set one in front of Anthony and another next to Cody.

"I vote a mohawk for Anthony," Cody said as he stood up and winced as his knees popped. "I might go for the dreadlocked look myself. That's different, right?"

"Different in a 'sort of like Rob Zombie if he couldn't sing or play guitar' kind of way. So different that I'll cut each one of them off while you sleep," Zack said with a laugh. "I like the mohawk idea, too." He winked at Anthony.

"I had one once. Did it when my little league team went to our tournament. My mom hated it and couldn't wait for us to lose so she could shave it off." Anthony smiled at the memory, Cody noticed.

"We'll see what we can find. I guess I could give you one with some scissors," Cody said as he ruffled Anthony's hair and lifted up a chunk of it from the center of the boy's head. "Yeah, I could."

"Okay, now that Cody is done playing beauty salon..." Zack said, shaking his head.

"Right. We should probably get moving." He picked his pack up and set it on the couch and started organizing it to make room for the bottle of water. "I guess this might be a good time to make sure we want to do this. Reconsider our plans a little."

"Do you want to? Reconsider them, I mean?" Zack asked as he shoved a bottle in his own bag.

"I just want to be sure we've thought everything through. We might have made a snap judgment this afternoon."

"You said it yourself, Cody, we have to be careful in the heat and there's no cooler time than right now. I saw a thermometer on the deck while I was filling the bottles and it was barely over seventy."

"Yeah, it's a cool night but there are other things we need to think about. Like zombies."

"We'll hear them if they come after us," Anthony said as he looked between the two brothers.

"Possibly, but not necessarily. They aren't all loud anymore." _Which scares me more than a little, _Cody added to himself.

"Flashlights," Zack said as if settled the issue. "Or headlights."

"Which might attract them to us," Anthony added, suddenly thinking of the dangers. Cody nodded.

"We can run a zombie over in a car just as easily at night as we can in the day," Zack told them, the fact that they didn't have a car ready and waiting was irrelevant to him.

"Okay, okay," Cody said with a placating gesture. "I'm not trying to talk us out of it, I just wanted to be sure we all know what might be out there. These things might be a problem or they might not. We don't know but we need to be aware."

"And knowing is half the battle," Zack said wryly. "I say we go." Anthony nodded his assent. Cody, not having a horse in the race, shrugged and it was settled.

Five minutes later they were geared up and heading out the door. Each boy had a flashlight in one hand but they had agreed to keep them off unless they needed them. There was enough moonlight to walk by as long as they stayed in the road and didn't wander off into the deep shadows behind houses.

They'd reached the highway after half an hour's walk and their hunt for a ride had begun in earnest after seeing almost nothing in the few miles since they left the house. Cody had his hands cupped around his face as he peered through a car's window when he heard a howl. His blood ran cold and he jerked back around to look at the others just as it was echoed by a second, longer, and seemingly closer, howl.

"That is not good news," Zack said as he leaned against the car's door and scanned his surroundings.

"No. I could almost feel that last one," Cody whispered as he turned his light on and lit up the edge of the cut. Anthony turned his on and shone it on the other side of the road.

"I don't see anything," the younger boy said as he turned back to the twins, inadvertently blinding Cody with his flashlight. "Oh...sorry!"

"It's okay. Let's keep moving. We'll find something soon enough," Cody said, squinting as he put a hand on Anthony's shoulder and turned the boy and the light slightly away from himself.

Their pace increased and they kept the lights on as they walked. Consciously or not, Cody wasn't sure which, they'd placed Anthony between themselves and seemingly took turns checking on him. "I'm fine," he'd answer, his voice sounding more confident than either of theirs when they'd ask.

The howls and random barks seemed to keep pace with them and they'd narrowed it down to coming from somewhere in the trees on the right side of the road. There had been a few close calls when one of the boys thought he saw movement but nothing definite.

"I wish they'd stick their noses out so I can blow one off," Zack said as the stress began to wear on his nerves. Knowing they were there but invisible was worse than not knowing they were there at all as far as he was concerned.

"They will," Cody said, "you'll get your chance."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah. I'm willing to bet that they're sizing us up right now, waiting for the right time to come at us."

"I'd rather they be zombies than dogs," Anthony said softly. "Dogs are smart."

"Maybe they're zombie dogs," Zack joked.

"There's a scary thought," Cody shivered. " I wonder if they can carry the virus or whatever it is."

"Thanks, Mr. Cheerful Thoughts. So now instead of just rabies we have to worry about that, too." Zack reached over Anthony and playfully tapped Cody on the back of the head.

"I'm just putting it out there. They probably can't but you-there! Right there!" Cody pointed his light and saw it reflected in at least three sets of eyes. "Tapetum lucidum. That's what it's called when it does that," Cody said. "The light bounces off their-"

"I don't care. Hold this." Zack shoved his light into his brother's hand and pulled the pistol from his pocket. He took aim once Cody had turned the light on the group of dogs and calmly pulled the trigger until the hammer fell empty. He swapped mags and unloaded that one on both sides of where the lights were focused.

"I think you got at least four of them," Cody told him once Zack had taken his light back. "Three for sure, but I think I heard a fourth yip with one of your last shots."

"Good. I'll take three kills," he said. "Spy plane ready for launch," he whispered as he changed the clip and slid the empties in his pocket for later.

"Hmm?"

"Nothing, Cody. Just talking to myself." Heavy clouds began to roll in and cover the moon minutes later and Zack frowned. He frowned harder when the first drops of rain began spattering down on them. "That's great," he said. "We need a ride."

They were thoroughly drenched by the time they finally found a car with keys. Their feet were sloshing around in their shoes and Zack had mentioned trying to find a wetsuit while on the lookout for massive wooden arks.

"I mean, really, what's the point now?" Cody asked sarcastically. "It's not like we can possibly get any wetter." He reached back and pulled his soaked underwear from his crack while Zack got in and tried to start the car. Anthony shifted from foot to foot nervously while they waited.

"Alright!" Zack exclaimed as it came to life. "Get in and we'll see if the heater works." Anthony and Cody piled in, Anthony taking his usual seat in the back while Zack drove and Cody in the navigator position. The car pulled away from the side of the road and into the downpour, the wipers barely able to keep up and the headlights seeming to turn into a bright soup less than twenty feet from the car.

"Well, in good news, we'll make it to St. Louis in about two hours at this speed," Cody said as they rolled along at just over thirty miles per hour.

They settled in and gradually dried out as the odometer slowly rolled over. In an hour, Cody had gone from absolutely miserable to only minorly uncomfortable but was still looking forward to finding somewhere dry to stop at to change his clothes. Assuming at least a few of them weren't equally wet, of course. He hadn't thought to check. He turned to ask Anthony but saw the boy had fallen asleep with the side of his head resting against the window.

"Well, never mind that," he said as he turned back around.

"Never mind what?"

"I was going to ask Anthony to see if any of the clothes in our bags were dry. I know the bags are water-resistant but that's a long way from waterproof."

"The gun bag is dry, or it should be as long as it was zipped all the way," Zack said as he tried to remember sealing it before they left the house. He was almost positive he had. "As for our clothes and all that, well, I guess one of the only good things about zombies having eaten everyone is that we can always just get more if they're soaked. No more putting things in a dryer and waiting."

"Yeah, as if you ever put anything in a dryer in your life," Cody laughed.

"I put some superballs in the dryer once. I wanted to hear what it sounded like when they bounced around."

"I remember that. Mom you were throwing rocks at the house or something." Cody grinned as the scene replayed in his head. "She was mad."

"Yes she was. But I was banned from touching it ever again, wasn't I? Who did my laundry? Not this guy!" Zack pointed a thumb at himself as he drove.

"I did your laundry, Zack. I saw all your little stains and accidents. I wore gloves when I did your underwear once you started, well, you know."

Zack laughed. Cody was entirely not amused at the memory and Zack was just about to tell him to lighten up when the human form appeared directly in front of them. "Oh shit!" Zack said as he slammed on the brakes and tried to keep the car from fishtailing across the road. The body flipped sideways when they struck it and Cody clearly saw the zombie's spine as it crashed into and spidered the windshield.

"Bust it out!" Zack screamed as he scrambled to roll the window down. "I can't see!" Rain whipped his face when he finally managed to get it down.

Cody threw his seat back as far as it would go while his brother stuck his head out the window. Cody kicked with all his might against the glass. The top half broke away and flew off and rain began pouring into the car.

"What's going on?" Anthony asked, rudely jarred from his sleep and seeing Zack halfway out the window and Cody with one foot through the remains of the windshield.

"Just making some roadkill, kiddo," Zack said as he pulled his head back inside the car. He had it back under control again, barely, but they were going straight instead of off into the ditch. He relaxed his death grip on the wheel when he noticed how white his knuckles were. "That was almost awesome." He calmed down and got the car back up to speed.

"Awesome? I can think of a thousand things to call it before I'd get to awesome," Cody told him. "Terrifying, for one."

"Yeah, but how often do you get to-"

"There's another one!" Cody yelled, interrupting his brother in mid-thought.

Zack had been looking at Cody and didn't see it in time to swerve. _Oh, that's a fat one _sped through his mind as they hit their second zombie in less than twenty seconds.

The first zombie had pinwheeled against the windshield and spun off to the side but this one exploded when it hit the front of the car and rained dark blood and gore across the interior. Cody looked down into his lap and was one hundred percent sure he had a mildewed boob sitting on his crotch. They were both covered in red pieces and Anthony had caught his fair share as well in the back.

"Stop the car, I'm going to puke," Cody said as his stomach began to rebel.

"I'm working on it," Zack replied as he did his best to steer the car's skid down a gentle embankment. Mud added to their woes as it blasted through the window and the hole in the windshield while the car slewed around. When they finally came to a stop, they were ass-first on a side road. Cody threw the door open and barely managed to stumble out before he vomited onto the concrete.

Zack, having a slightly stronger stomach, simply sat in the seat for a few seconds and looked himself over. He was red and brown and wet and there was a lock of matted hair hanging from the jagged remains of the glass. "Fuck _that,_" he finally said as he opened the door to get out. "You okay, kid?" he stuck his head back in to see Anthony sitting wide-eyed and motionless. "Anthony?"

"That was the grossest thing I've ever seen," the boy responded. "It was like a pack of raw hamburger meat exploded all over us." He absently wiped a line of zombie something from his arm as he opened the back door. "Eww," he said as he noticed the left side of his shirt had changed from a wet grey to a soggy red.

"Tell me about it." Zack pulled his shirt over his head and let it drop to the ground. He watched as the blood began to run into the water. Anthony's shirt quickly joined his and they waited for Cody to finish up.

"I would love anything to get this taste out of my mouth," Cody finally said. He was sitting on his knees in the gravel and trying his best not to look back in the car.

"I've got a little Coke left," Anthony said and disappeared into the backseat for a moment. He came out and tossed it to Cody and watched as the boy took three sips and spit all three back out before swallowing a fourth.

"Thanks," Cody told him and allowed himself to be helped up by his brothers. He looked a little shaky and Zack led him around to the trunk and told him to sit. "I'm fine."

"Just in case. You look paler than usual so just chill for a minute," Zack told him.

Cody did feel a bit dizzy. Zack's face washed in and out of focus a few times before everything settled into place again. "By the way, you're never driving again," Cody told him once he felt like himself again. "Just saying. At least not until we find a bulldozer or something."

"We'll talk about that later," he laughed before he straightened up and pointed out across the field in front of them. "A building. Hopefully a building with a roof over it."

"Let's go," Cody said, stopping unloading the car just long enough to pull his blood and puke-stained shirt over his head. "We can sort through everything and see what's salvageable and what's not."

The walk took no more than five minutes but to the boys it felt like forever. They seemingly found every last gopher hole and muddy puddle on their route. When they finally stood on the building's parking lot, they were covered in mud. Anthony ran a hand across his forehead and slung a streamer of mud against the wall. "Gross."

"Well, at least we can't see the zombie goo anymore," Zack said as they forced open a door.

"I couldn't see it in the dark, anyway," Cody mumbled.

They stepped into the building by flashlight and closed the door as quietly as they could behind them. Zack pointed to a small couch and they moved it in front of the door. It wouldn't stop a horde of zombies but it would give them warning and time to find another way out. As they walked through the rooms and shined their lights around, it became obvious that they were in some sort of office building. They passed a row of offices and then into a maze of cubicles.

"Man, this is like Left 4 Dead," Zack said softly as he glanced around.

"Is that the game with the big zombie that throws cars at you?" Cody asked.

"Yeah, that's the tank," Anthony told him.

"I hate that game." Cody saw a water cooler and let the water flow and ran his hands under it.

They found an open space and set their packs in the middle of the floor. Zack pulled the small battery lantern from the gun bag, dry as a bone and he was relieved, and turned it on. The glow was dull and he scowled. The battery was almost dead and they might have five minutes before it went out completely.

"Let's make this fast," he said as he started dumping everything out of his bag. Anthony and Cody did the same and sorted through everything. Their clothes were mostly soaked and were set aside as they continued digging.

"Most of the food seems okay," Cody told them as he looked it over. "Some of the crackers got smashed, though." He set them aside.

"Oh man, that sucks," Zack said.

"I thought you were sick of crackers," Cody said as he looked up.

"Nah, I don't care about those. Everything in here is wet and Ms. December is stuck to Ms. July." Zack held up two of his not-so-secret porn stash magazines and shook them.

"Are you sure you didn't do that?" Cody asked with a grin. Anthony snorted.

"Ha ha. No." Zack gave them one more shake to pry them apart before he tossed them over his shoulder. "The hell with it," he said and tossed the whole wet pile. "Not like I can read them now anyway."

"You actually _read_ those?" Anthony asked and it was Cody's turn to snort.

"Jeez, now there's two of them." Zack put his hands on his hips and turned to the other boys and shook his head. "I'm outnumbered." They finished sorting everything just as the light began to dim. The wet clothes were to be left while the food was repacked along with the other odds and ends they'd collected that weren't ruined. "I don't know about you guys but I'm changing from clothes that are nasty and wet into some that are just wet."

Zack began stripping his foul clothes off and tossing them as far across the room as he could before wiping every inch of skin he could reach clean with a wet t-shirt. After a few seconds Cody joined him. Zack was pulling on a soggy pair of underwear when he saw that Anthony hadn't moved yet. He shot Cody a _do you want to deal with this or should I? _glance and Cody nodded.

"You aren't going to keep wearing those, are you, Anthony?"

"Uh, no," he replied after a second's hesitation.

"Well come on then. Brothers shouldn't be embarrassed to change with each other." He could see the smile forming at the corners of the boy's mouth even in the dying light. "C'mon, on three. You can turn around if you want but you don't have anything either of us hasn't seen before." Cody hitched his thumbs in his waistband and counted. "One, two, three." He shucked his pants and was a little surprised when Anthony did the same. "Not so bad, huh?"

"Not really." He cleaned up like Zack had before stepping into a clean but damp pair of briefs.

They were dressed again in short order and they continued their tour of the building, hoping that they might find something useful in the various cubicles. Zack found a Snickers bar in a desk and tossed it to Anthony. Aside from staplers and reams of printer paper, it was the only thing they found.

"Okay, so I'll ask the million dollar question," Cody said after they'd torn through the last office on the far wall. "Do we stay here or do we push on? We aren't that far from the river now, maybe twenty minutes or a half hour. At the very least, we can scout the bridge and find dry clothes to sleep in before we call it a day."

"I'm all for moving on," Zack announced after thinking it over. "There isn't anything here for us and, honestly, if we stop now it'll be like we're admitting defeat, that we can't handle it at night."

Cody hadn't been thinking of it in terms of victories but found that Zack's point resonated with him. He looked to Anthony for his opinion.

"I don't want to stop now. I'm not tired and this place, this whole area, kind of gives me the creeps."

Zack's eyes perked up. "Did you see something? Hear something?"

"No, nothing like that. I don't know what it is but it feels wrong. Wronger than normal, I mean."

"I'm with you, kid," Cody told him. "It might just be from that zombie gut shower we had earlier but I can't get away from this place soon enough."

"I guess that settles it," Zack said, reshouldering his bag. "We're moving on. And so help me, we're finding a car so we can get out of this rain."

"I'm driving."

"We'll see, Cody."

"I'll drive," Anthony piped in.

"Squirt, you won't be able to see over the dashboard," Zack laughed.

"He could always sit on your lap."

"No, Cody, that's not working. Maybe one day, though, Anthony. We'll figure something out. It might be good for you to be able to drive a car just in case anything bad ever happens to the two of us."

"Sweet," the younger boy said as they found another door. "I won't hit any zombies when I get to drive."

It was still raining buckets when they stepped outside and they were soaked again within seconds. A small mob of zombies stumbled around the corner of the building and took them by surprise, their tell-tale moans drowned out by the sound of the downpour. They were close enough that Zack only had time to hit the lead zombie in the head with the end of the flashlight before it was on him. They jumped back and pulled their irons and dropped the zombies to the ground. One was still twitching and attempting to come after them. Cody stepped forward and put a bullet into its head and stopped it.

"That was too close," he said as he looked them over. "We need to find that car."

"We will," Zack said as he slipped a new clip into his gun.

Zack's words held true. They left the office building behind and found what they were looking for in a Burger King parking lot a few blocks over. Cody opened the door and picked the keys up from the seat and hopped in. Anthony rode up front with him and Cody paused to wonder how the arrangements would be if and when Anthony drove. _He might make us both ride in the back, _he thought with a smile. He pulled the gearshift into _D _and pulled out.

He kept his speed down in the driving rain despite calls of _c'mon, grandma _from the backseat. He wasn't about to pull a Zack and run down a zombie and wreck the nice Sunbird. It was older but it ran very well and Cody was sorry they were probably going to have to leave it when they reached the bridge. Maybe they hadn't blown it. He shook his head. No, of course they would have. They'd blown every other bridge they boys had come upon so why not that one, too? Cody pushed his wet hair back and shrugged. They'd find out soon enough.

"Well would you look at that?" Zack said from the back seat. "Look at the river." Cody did, not sure what to expect from the tone of his brother's voice.

A bolt of lightning forked across the clouds and Cody was able to make out the form of a huge span of concrete reaching across the blackness that was the river. "It's still up! I don't believe it," he exclaimed, his spirits buoyed at the thought of not having to backtrack and find a way to cross the river by boat. "I guess we're not floating to New Orleans after all, Zack."

"I can live with that. Keep driving, Cody."

Cody did, but had to slow down to nearly a crawl as he got closer. Cars were parked and wrecked three and four deep in some places and it was becoming increasingly difficult for Cody to find a way around them. He gritted his teeth as he scraped a long gash along the side of the car when he sideswiped the nose of a truck.

"Yeah, you can drive," Zack joked.

"I just tore the side up, you knocked the windshield out. I'm still ahead on points."

"You got the mirror, too, buddy," Zack told him and Cody looked to see that he was right. The mirror was hanging by its electrical wires, gently rocking back and forth as he drove.

"It's still attached. Doesn't count," he fired back. He drove another half mile and was on the bridge deck itself. Cody managed to maneuver around one more pile of cars before he had to call it quits. "I think we're walking from here," he said as he sat back against the seat. He drummed his fingers on the wheel before dropping them into his lap.

They piled out of the car and unloaded their much smaller packs. Zack took time to give the sky a middle finger salute before they started picking their way through and around the obstacles. Their lights were out and lit and they scanned the area in front of them zealously as they advanced. The thought of being stuck between two masses of zombies while on the bridge with nowhere to go but over the side was enough to make Cody's skin crawl.

The abandoned traffic had caused them to steadily drift to the left side of the span but they kept plodding along through it and soon enough came to the bridge's peak. As they reached it, they were finally able to see the other side of it and instantly knew why there were so many cars piled up around and behind them. The majority of the western half of the span was gone.

"Holy shit," Zack said as he gazed at the gaping holes in the bridge deck. Somewhere far below was the raging Mississippi River but he couldn't see it in the inky blackness of the night. "Can we even get across it?"

"We can. It's not entirely gone over there along the wall or whatever," Anthony said as he shone his light. "We can cross it."

"We can, but is it safe? That's the important question," Cody said as he looked at the two of them. "I say we at least take a look. We've come too far to turn back now." Cody felt the first butterflies begin to dance in his stomach as he looked at the sliver of decking again. He swallowed hard.

"I guess someone didn't wire the explosives right," he said as they approached the chasm. "Or they tried to bomb it from the air and missed."

"No, they hit it all right, one way or the other. They just saved us a lot of time by not hitting it where they wanted to," Zack told him.

The three boys stopped cold where the decking fell away to a small path along the edge of the bridge. They could see portions of rebar poking out from the shattered concrete in their lights. None of them were happy to see that the roadbed itself was cracked in a few places. "Wow," Cody said as he looked on. "It's not more than three feet across in the middle of the strip."

"I'll go across first," Zack asserted. "If it can hold me with all my gear, it'll hold you two easily."

"Zack, wait. We can go back and find another way across the river."

"It'll hold, Cody. Just watch." Cody suddenly found he was shaking. "I'll go across and then Anthony can go and you'll bring up the rear. Cool?"

"I guess," Cody answered.

"Okay, here we go." Zack slowly approached the sliver of decking and kept his eyes firmly on the ground in front of him. Under no circumstances was he going to allow his gaze to slip over the side and see the emptiness that was waiting to swallow him whole. One foot in front of the other in front of the other was his mantra. When he reached the narrowest part, which he judged to be three feet only if he was being very generous, he took a deep breath and forced his feet to keep moving. It took every ounce of control he had to not fall over and kiss the ground when he reached the other side.

"It's okay," he yelled. "Just keep moving and you'll be across before you know it."

Cody knelt before Anthony and put his hands on the boy's shoulders. "You heard Zack. Be careful and keep moving, okay?"

"I'm okay, Cody. I can do this."

"Go on then. Watch your feet."

Anthony nodded and began crossing the sliver. He kept a slow but steady pace and navigated the narrowest stretch with no problems as far as Cody could tell. When he was safely at Zack's side Cody allowed himself to breathe again.

"Your turn, Cody!" Anthony called to him. "Just like you told me."

"Right. Just like I told you," Cody whispered. "Right." He rubbed his hands together and tried to psych himself up. "Right." he said again as he took his first steps.

Cody kept his eyes centered on the bobbing beam of light in front of him. He could hear the river rushing by however many hundreds of feet below him even over the torrents of rain that were falling on him. _I can do this, _he thought to himself as he reached the narrow. _I can do this. _Cody made the fatal mistake of letting his eyes drift to the blackness beside him. _Ah fuck no I can't._ He sank to one knee and froze, his heart thundering like a thoroughbred in his chest. The flashlight slipped from his fingers and went tumbling over the side, spinning end over end until it was swallowed by the river. _I think I just peed my pants a little _he thought absently as he slammed his eyes closed.

"Shit, what's he doing?" Zack said as he looked into the rain. "What the fuck is he doing?"

"He froze up, Zack. He must have looked down."

"Damn it," he swore under his breath. "Cody, come on, buddy, you can do this. Lift your head up and get moving again."

"I can't!" Cody cried back. He opened his eyes and felt a vertigo swoon coming over him. He closed them again and rested his forehead on the deck.

"Yes you can, Cody," Anthony called out to him. "You're almost here."

"I can't!" both boys could hear the tears in their brother's voice. Cody was sobbing.

"Please, Cody. You can do it. I know you can," Anthony said. "Come on." They received no response from Cody, none that they could hear anyway.

"I'm going out after him," Zack said as he started taking his pack off.

"No you're not. Even without all that stuff you're carrying, I still weigh a lot less than you do. I'll go."

"No way. Out of the question."

"It might crack if you are both on it. I'll go get him."

"Not happening, Anthony. What if you can't get him to move? Are you going to drag him? You aren't that strong, kiddo. Sorry."

"I won't have to. Just watch." He looked up to Zack's face for approval. No matter how much he thought he was right, _knew _he was right, he would defer to the older boy. His older brother. "I can do it. I can get him over here."

Zack moaned aloud. "You really think you can get him up?"

"I know I can. Just trust me. Please?"

"Go before I change my mind," he finally said and helped Anthony take all his gear off. "Be careful. I don't want to have to come in after you," he said, the joke sounding hollow in his own ears.

"I will. Promise." He gave Zack a quick hug, surprising him mightily, and was off. He crept across the cracked concrete until he was squatting a few feet from Cody. "Hey, come on, let's get moving already."

Cody's head lifted and he saw Anthony in the reflected light. "What are you doing out here? Get back over there with Zack."

"Not without you."

"Anthony, get over there now. I can't do this."

"No way. Now get up already. I'm not leaving my brother behind!"

"I can't," Cody said softly, shaking his head at Anthony.

"Yes you can." The boy stood up and offered his hand. "Come on, take my hand. I'll lead you across." Cody looked up again and saw the look in the boy's face and couldn't refuse him. So earnest, so trusting. Cody reached his hand out and latched on. "Good. Very good. Now stand up. Slowly."

Cody did just that and slowly rose to his feet, not taking his eyes off of Anthony. He was scared that if he did they would find the blackness again. Tiny steps, baby steps.

"You're doing great, Cody. Keep it up. We're almost home free."

Cody didn't respond. He was too busy focusing all his will to lift each foot and gently lower it again. Up. Down. Up. Down.

"Five more steps, Cody. Four. Three. Two. One. You made it!" Only then did Cody look up and see his brother standing a few feet away. Anthony wrapped him in a hug. "I told you you could do it!"

"Thanks, Anthony," he said at last. "I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything."

"That's right," Zack said. "That's what family does."

_I'd just like to say that this was probably the easiest chapter I've written for the story so far. I sat down to start messing with it during a Little League World Series game and had the whole thing finished a few hours later._

_I'd also like to say that Zack doesn't use _Hardline _since it's for n00bs. He also doesn't use _Second Chance_ for the same reason. Of course if you didn't get his little joke early in the chapter...never mind! Just chalk it up to video game nerdiness on my part and move along._


	21. Chapter 21

Carey had raced across southern Illinois as fast as she safely could in the tow truck, fighting the urge to stomp the accelerator through the floorboard nearly every mile. The difference between prudence and recklessness was less than an ounce of pressure on the gas pedal.

Knowledge of her kids, all three of them now, being somewhere in the vastness ahead of her spurred her on. She'd crossed almost half the country with no idea of whether they were dead or alive or worse. Carey had pushed herself beyond anything she thought she could ever do without knowing one way or the other. Now that she knew, the drive was even stronger. They were ahead of her. Somewhere. Carey was going to find them no matter what, be it walking on the side of the road or sitting at the table in her sister's house.

The question of whether Jo would be there crossed her mind for the first time. The house and farm had been a nebulous idea until that moment and Carey found she had no answer. Jo was tough and loved her land but she was also pragmatic. If she needed to get the hell out of there, she would and wouldn't think twice about it.

She hadn't talked to Jo in...at least as long as it had been since she talked to Kurt. "Wow," she said as the realization hit her. "It doesn't feel like it's been that long. Won't that be a fun conversation when I get there. 'Sorry, Sis, been too busy to call. Hope you don't mind if I crash on your couch until the zombies all melt. Oh, and my boys are coming, too. Or maybe they're already here. Have you seen them?'" Carey shook her head. All that could wait until she got there since there were still a few hundred miles between her and the middle of nowhere.

Try as she could, Carey couldn't push thoughts of being a piss-poor sister from her mind. The two of them had been almost as inseparable as Zack and Cody and it ate at her as she thought about all the times they'd spent together over the years. The time they'd ran off to Chicago and met Kurt's first band. That spring break the year before when she'd held Jo's shoes while she puked in the ocean. The time when...was the bridge still there? Carey leaned low over the steering wheel and looked out. Sure enough, it was still spanning the Mississippi. She smiled as she began her approach. Memories could wait until she got across the river.

A short time later, Carey blew her bangs from her forehead as she stood at the edge of the ruined bridge. She had weaved her way through the traffic hoping to find there was still a way to cross and wasn't happy with what she found. "You have _got _to be kidding me," she mumbled as she looked at the sliver of roadbed that connected the two halves of the bridge. An unbidden laugh escaped and surprised her. "Great."

She stood at the precipice for a few long moments before adjusting all her gear to hang evenly across her body. One deep breath turned into two but Carey stepped onto the small walkway before it could become a third and fourth. After a couple of steps Carey had to quash an urge to dash across the distance and damn the consequences. "Easy, girl. Slow and steady," she said as she reached the halfway point. Panic disappeared as she saw the faces of her boys, clear and defined for the twins and hazy and indistinct for Anthony, in her mind's eye.

Her legs began to shake the second she reached the other side and Carey sat down hard on the concrete. She let out an exaggerated sigh and laid on her back. "Never, ever again," she announced as she waited for her body to relax. "I'll swim across next time."

After a few minutes, she rose and dusted herself off. Daylight was burning and she didn't want to waste any more of it than she already had. Carey turned her attention to the cars that were sitting nearby and walked over. She saw more than a few sets of keys but the cars were blocked in. Naturally. She continued on and soon found a red Neon with the back windshield broken out that she could maneuver through the others without too much trouble. Her gear tossed in the passenger seat and shotgun on the floorboard, Carey carefully drove off.

She yawned as the miles disappeared behind her. Her watch told her that it was going on midnight but she couldn't stop. _Wouldn't _stop. Carey was passing the outskirts of some little burg in the middle of Missouri that she'd already forgotten the name of and wanted to make it another few hours before she called it a night. Kansas City was maybe two hours away if she was able to keep making such good time on the highway. She knocked on the faux-wood dashboard just in case she'd jinxed herself.

Carey didn't quite make it but she was close when she finally pulled off I-70 to find a room to crash in for the night. She chose a hotel and cruised into the parking lot with her lights off, circling the building once before she pulled under the large carport in the front. She stepped out carefully and grabbed her belongings and shoved the keys into her vest's pocket. "Just in case," she said with a smile. She hadn't seen anyone all day but this would be a poor time for someone to wander by and steal her car while she slept.

Her shotgun slung over one shoulder, Carey pushed the door open with the nose of her pistol. She greatly preferred the stopping power of the shotgun but it wasn't feasible to use it with her Maglite. Her hands were crossed at the wrists like she'd seen in many police dramas, gun in her right hand aiming at where her left hand illuminated with the light. She opened the door to the stairwell and started climbing.

"Shit!" she yelled as the beam showed her a zombie on the landing a few steps up from her. She hadn't heard it but it had certainly heard her coming up. It lunged and she fired twice, catching it first in the hip and then in the side of the head. The zombie fell and her hands immediately went to her ears as the deafening noise was echoed back repeatedly. "Not quite top-five dumbest thing I've ever done but it's close," she whispered as her hearing slowly returned.

The zombie most likely hadn't been in the stairs since the outbreak so that meant that there was an open door somewhere above her. Possibly with more zombies waiting for a late-night snack. Carey gritted her teeth. Hunting zombies in a dark hotel was the last thing on her list of things she wanted to do tonight but it needed to be done.

She passed four doors that were stuck open before she made her way to the eighth and final floor. Carey walked softly around the hallways, checking every room that wasn't closed. "Pretty sure they can't figure out how doorknobs work," she said, "so they can stay in the rooms til they fall apart for all I care." She methodically worked her way down floor by floor.

It wasn't until she reached the fourth floor that she found anything. She had taken one step around a corner and saw a group of small zombies at the end of the hall. "Oh no," Carey whispered as she realized they were just kids. One of them saw the light and jerked its head around. _Like a cat looking at a laser pointer's light._ It saw her and moved much quicker than she thought possible, the other two following right behind it.

"I'm so sorry, little guy," she yelled. It was definitely a boy, Carey saw. He was dressed in a stained baseball jersey and grungy Nikes and she had to swallow hard before she could shoot him. She dropped him with one bullet just below his buzzcut and then fired on what she assumed was his older brother and sister. "Fuck." She leaned against the wall and looked at the ceiling and tried not to cry. She never thought she'd ever shoot a kid, zombie or otherwise, and it hurt her.

One floor later, she was done with her inspection and chose a room overlooking the hotel's front lawn. Two luggage carts were turned into a barricade for the outside of her door and she moved the dresser against it on the inside. She was satisfied with her preparations and laid down on the bed. Carey told herself that she'd take her boots off in a minute but was asleep before she could.

Zack was slowly walking through the rows of corn in her dream. She had just pulled up to the farm and was barely out of the car when she saw him. "Zack!" she yelled, knowing it was him by the way he walked. She left her bag on the hood and ran to him. Her arms were open and she was about to wrap him in a long-delayed hug when he turned around. His eyes were blank and he snarled at her. "No!" she screamed as she tried to pull back but it was too late. Her son's dead arms grabbed her and pulled her into his own embrace.

Carey lurched awake and nearly threw herself out of bed when she felt Zack's teeth on her. Her heart was pounding and her eyes jumped around the room before she calmed herself down enough to realize it had only been a dream. She ran her hands back through her hair and shivered. "No. That is not how it's going to end," she said. "No way." Carey checked her watch and saw that she'd been asleep for a grand total of six hours. Sunlight was already poking through the edges of the curtains and she was still tired but she knew there would be no more sleep for her. She was too close and that dream was too real.

She dressed and loaded up her supplies, wishing for the umpteenth time that she could get a decent cup of coffee, and headed downstairs. A Pepsi would have to do for her morning caffeine fix and she shot the lock off of a vending machine and grabbed two bottles. Carey stepped out into morning fog and the sound of crickets and moved quickly to the car. She looked around before getting in, making sure there weren't any surprises waiting for her, but saw nothing. Satisfied, she climbed in and started the engine.

Carey paced herself across the rest of Missouri and began picking her way through the giant snarl that was Kansas City. "That's it, I'm stealing a helicopter next," she said as she drove down the edge of the highway, two wheels on and two wheels in the grass. The drive, not all that smooth in the first place, now reminded her of a vibrating bed in a cheap hotel. "Or a car with shocks that actually work. Either one."

It was after noon before she made it through the mess, having had to backtrack twice and take one of the smaller roads that encircled the city. Carey pulled back onto 70 and continued west into steadily darkening skies. The clouds looked like bruises and they seemed to be racing over the flat land. Rain began falling shortly before she passed Topeka and it soon falling faster than the wipers could wipe away. Carey pulled the car over beneath an overpass to wait it out.

She must have dozed at some point because when Carey opened her eyes the dark clouds had passed and there were nothing but blue skies ahead of her. She yawned and stepped out of the car to stretch her legs. The air had taken on the eerie stillness that comes after a storm and she didn't hear so much as a single cricket or see a lone bird circling overhead.

"Let's go, girl. Home stretch. Another hour or so to go and you'll be there. Maybe two hours if the traffic gets bad again." She squatted down to flex her knees and walked back around to the driver's side door and got in. Carey sprayed gravel as she pulled back onto the highway and spilled her drink as the car slewed around.

As she drove on, Carey realized what a good idea it had been to stop when she had. Houses and buildings had been flattened and their debris strewn all over the road and the surrounding fields like toys. Carey slowed down to steer around a large unrecognizable hunk of twisted metal. "Wow," she said under her breath, "looks like I missed being in the remake of _Twister _by about ten minutes." Carey looked around for a flying cow even though the wind was still.

As she drove, she crested a small hill and saw that the path of the tornado had roughly paralleled the interstate for miles and crossed it more than a couple of times. Carey whistled as she took in the sight. A random thought popped into her head. Could a zombie survive being tossed around in a tornado? "Maybe survive is the wrong word," she said, "since they're already dead. Sort of. You know what I mean."

Carey realized that she was talking to herself and sighed. Aside from missing her children, the lack of contact with other humans that weren't either homicidal or batshit insane was the worst part of the world ending. She hadn't had a decent conversation since...well, she had to think about that for a minute. Since she left the remains of that Army unit back in New York. How long ago was that now? "A long damn time ago," she said. "After we're done hugging and crying our eyes out, me and the boys are going to have a good, long talk about anything and everything under the sun. I don't care if it's about a pimple or their favorite cheese. We're going to talk."

The traffic had thinned to almost nothing by the time she reached her exit and Carey wasn't certain if that was good or bad. Good, everyone got out before they were infected. Bad, everyone was still roaming around the farmland waiting to greet her with rotten teeth. Carey unconsciously looked at the shotgun for reassurance. She still had a rather large supply of shells and figured there would be plenty of opportunities to get more.

She pulled off the highway and settled in for the drive through mile after mile of flat land. Jo didn't live that far off of 156 but it was far enough for Carey to begin to fidget as she drove. She could all but smell the cow shit from Jo's neighbor's farm now. Once she turned off of the county road and onto what was a road in name only, gravel began bouncing around the undercarriage. "Sounds like I'm being shot at," Carey said as she slowed down to reduce the noise and any chance of detection.

Carey continued on until she saw the last turn appear in front of her. "There it is," she said as she rounded it and the farmhouse came into view. She felt a mix of triumph and apprehension as she turned off onto the driveway. She'd made it, crossed the country, but what was waiting for her inside? Could she shoot Jo if it came down to it? "Damn right," she said as she slowed the car to a crawl and circled the house.

Carey pulled the car around back and shut it off. She got out and listened as hard as she could but the only sound that reached her ears was the gurgling of the stream that ran a few dozen yards away. She hefted the shotgun and started walking around the house, having decided that she'd make sure there weren't any neighbors around before she ventured inside. She'd just came around the back of the house when she heard a growl.

"Spot?" Carey said as she took another few steps. The doghouse was back here somewhere, she remembered. "Spot?" she called again as a giant black mass _woofed _and came out of the doghouse with its tail wagging. "Good boy," Carey said as the dog sauntered over and waited to be petted.

She squatted down and rubbed his head and scratched right behind his ears, just like she always did when she saw him. Carey smiled as she remembered her boys both riding on the monster dog's back when they were six. Spot, to his credit, put up with them in exchange for a generous amount of treats and whatever theyhappened to _drop _from the dinner table. Carey stood up after a few more rubs and started for the house, Spot right on her heels.

"I don't suppose Momma's inside is she?" she asked. The dog's head turned when she said it but Carey got no other answer. She shrugged and walked up the steps to the back door and pulled the screen open. Carey cracked the wooden door an inch and listened. Like before, she heard nothing and Spot nosed the door all the way open and stomped inside.

Judging by the dog's reaction, Carey figured the house was empty but didn't want to take any chances. She went room by room and found the place to be as empty as she expected. Once the house had been cleared, Carey set about trying to find any evidence that would shed light on her sister's fate. There was no blood, no signs of any struggle. A bit more searching revealed two cardboard boxes with a few canned goods in each. Carey's lips turned down in a frown. That could be good or bad. Jo had either taken the good stuff and took off or she had only gathered those few cans before she had to leave.

"Or maybe she's been out scavenging and that's what she found on her last trip," Carey said, her mind not wanting to commit to the worst case scenarios. Unfortunately, none of the three ideas had any more basis in fact than the others. Carey sat on the arm of the couch and tried to decide what she'd do next. No boys, no sister. Just an empty house and a dog.

"I guess I'll wait. They must have been slowed down on their way."

_Almost done, guys. Sorry this one is short but it's a set up for the end. There's going to be either one long chapter or two shorter chapters and it's over. _

_Thanks for reading._


	22. Chapter 22

"I'm getting more than a little sick of the cars we find crapping out on us after a few hours," Zack said as he pulled their most recent find into the parking lot of the mechanic's garage. He slammed the gear shift into park and the metal-on-metal screeching immediately ceased. Zack leaned back against the seat and then punched the steering wheel. "Just once I'd like to find something that isn't as old as we are."

"Any idea what's wrong with it?" Cody asked as he opened his door.

"Aside from the fact that it's making the worst noise I've ever heard, no." Zack got out and walked to the front and stood beside the left tire. "I'm pretty sure the noise is coming from here. Maybe the axle or something." He kicked the tire.

"Can you fix it?" Anthony asked after he gave the tire a second kick. "I bet there's a ton of tools in there." He gestured at the rows of bays behind them.

"Probably not, Anthony. My car fixing skills stop at changing a tire and filling it with gas. But I was hoping that we'd be able to find something here that's drivable."

"Well, there's enough cars here that the odds should be in our favor," Cody said as he looked at the rows of cars that were parked along the property's fences. A quick count put the number somewhere around two dozen after discounting the obvious no-gos.

"They _should _be," Zack repeated, "but we'll see. Let's head inside and see if we can find where they keep the keys."

"If we can't find those, there's no point in checking out the cars," Cody added.

The three boys left their car, Zack giving it another kick before walking off, and headed for the front of the building. There were six large rolling glass doors and a smaller office door on the far end. From what they could see, the bays behind the rolling doors were shallow but there was plenty of room behind them. Rows and rows of shelves, all lined with boxes and auto parts, lined the walls around an open center area.

"Looks like an old warehouse that was converted," Cody said as he tried to pull up one of the doors. It rattled against the lock and he moved on to the next. He found one to roll up on the third try and stood back as it slid easily up its tracks and locked into place. Zack ushered Cody and Anthony in ahead of him and covered them.

"You two check the office first. I'll be there in a second," Zack said and herded them in that direction. He stopped and walked back to the door. He looked up and saw the bottom of the door a few feet out of his reach. There was a chain hanging from the side of the door but it didn't move when Zack pulled on it. Puzzled, he set his weapon on a cart piled with tools and pulled again, trying to see what the door was hanging up on. He swore under his breath when he realized he couldn't solve the puzzle.

"This is crap. There should be a damn latch somewhere," he said as he gave the chain one final yank. Zack picked his shotgun up from the cart and backed his way toward the office, his eyes flicking between the door and the others. This was a bad situation and he knew it. He came to a halt with his spine resting against the frame of the office door and the shotgun resting on his shoulder.

Cody looked up and saw the scowl on his brother's face. "What's wrong?"

"The door won't close," he said, not needing to elaborate further.

"Of course it won't," Cody replied. "Come on, Anthony, let's find those keys and get out of here." The office was long but narrow, with an ancient, stained desk at one end and boxes of every conceivable type of junk lining every bit of floor space. They ignored the floor clutter and searched the walls and it didn't take them long to scour every inch of wall space and find nothing but bikini calendars and pieces of corkboard with hundreds of invoices stabbed onto them.

"It's a wonder they could find anything in here at all," Cody muttered as he returned to the front of the office. "They've got their stuff scattered everywhere." He rifled through a stack a papers sitting on a box of air filters and tossed them back down.

"Maybe they put them in the desk," Anthony said as he walked over to it and started opening drawers.

"Probably not," Cody told him, but he let the boy check anyway. He grinned when Anthony pulled out a Snickers bar and held it like a gold medal. "Not keys but a nice find anyway, kid."

"We'll check the warehouse and if we don't find anything we'll just walk from here," Zack said as Anthony broke the candy bar into three pieces and handed two of them out. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

The three boys left the office and headed into the spacious warehouse. Cody ran his gaze around the dozens of shelving units that ringed the central area. Row after row of parts he had no name for. Smells that he'd come across before but couldn't place. Ladders that leaned against the shelves and reached almost to the ceiling. He whistled as he looked over all the equipment strewn across the floor. "Looks like everyone left here in a hurry."

"I'll say. I bet they could build a car from scratch with all the stuff in here," Anthony said as he peered into a box of spark plugs. "My uncle would be in heaven right now if he saw this place."

"He was a car guy, huh?" Zack asked as his eyes flitted between the room and the front bays.

"Oh yeah. He used to buy old cars and restore them. He always had at least two of them sitting in his garage," Anthony remembered as he walked down an aisle, running his fingers over the front of the boxes. "He was working on an old Mustang when all this happened." Anthony's voice rose slightly and it sounded like he wanted to say more but went abruptly quiet. "Maybe one day I'll go back and finish it," he said after a few seconds.

"We'll be right there beside you," Cody told him.

"That's right," Zack added as the boy started back up the aisle toward them. "Now let's see if we can find some keys."

Zack walked the area, quickly becoming irritated at their lack of progress. The keys had to be _somewhere _but they couldn't find them. The obvious place, the normal place, would be a rack on a wall but from what they'd seen so far, this place was anything but normal.

"Wow!" they heard Anthony exclaim a moment later.

"You found them?"

"No, not the keys but something else. Maybe even better."

His interest piqued, Zack took a few steps toward the boy and felt his stomach grumble when he saw what Anthony was holding. "MREs," he said. "You found food!"

"I don't know if I'd exactly call them food," Cody said as he took the package from Anthony's hand and examined it. "I read that the troops called them _Meals_ _Rejected_ _by_ _Everyone_ instead of _Meals, Ready to Eat_."

"If it's good enough to keep our Army fed while they chase camels across the desert, they're good enough for us," Zack told him. "And they have meat in them. Something that we haven't had in a long time."

Anthony wasted no time in tearing one open and letting the contents fall to the floor. He rooted through the packages until he picked up one with _chili mac _stenciled in bold letters on it. He seemed resigned to being the guinea pig and tore the package open and scooped out two fingers of the chunky mess directly into his mouth. "It's...not bad. Kinda like Chef Boyardee," he said as he greedily scooped out another bite.

That was good enough for Zack and Cody and they each grabbed a pack at random from the box. All manners were quickly forgotten as the boys dug into the first real meal they could remember in a month. When all was said and done and Anthony was nibbling on what was supposedly a cookie but looked more like a hockey puck, there were remains of half a dozen MREs sitting on the floor between them.

"Those were surprisingly good," Cody announced with a belch. "We're definitely taking these with us."

"Yes we are. But we'll ration them out so we don't run through them in a few days," Zack said. "We'll keep scrounging for food along the way so we can make them last."

"There's three boxes of them so we should be set for a while," Anthony told them as he looked at the shelves. I don't know why they're here but I'm glad they are."

"I guess one of the workers was ex-military," Cody said after he wiped his mouth with his sleeve. "Or maybe a camper or survivalist. Whatever he was, he's just given the three of us food for almost a month."

The trio, their quest for the keys temporarily forgotten, worked on pulling the large boxes from the shelf and stacking them on the floor. Zack was about to say that they'd probably have to take at least some of them out of the boxes to make them all fit in a car when his words died on his tongue. A familiar shuffling and moaning echoed across the vast warehouse.

"Shit!" Zack yelled as he whirled around to find himself five feet away from a walker. He took a step back and looked wildly for his shotgun.

"Zack! Down!" Cody yelled and he threw himself to the floor. A shot rang out from Cody's pistol and the zombie collapsed in a pile with a bullet hole in its forehead. The spent casing clattered to the floor at his feet. He scrambled to his feet and reached a hand down to help Anthony up.

"Time to go!" Zack said as he picked himself up. He started for the boxes, meaning to pick one up and carry it out with him, when another low moan reached his ears. He stopped in mid-stride and turned around and dove for his gun.

"Forget the boxes," Cody exclaimed as he dropped the when it rounded the shelf. "We've got to get out of here!" He led the way and froze in his tracks when he saw the massed zombies pouring through the open door.

"Oh shit," Anthony said softly from Cody's side.

"Is there another way out of here?" Zack asked as he stepped between the two.

"Not that I saw, no," Cody answered and was confirmed by Anthony.

"Last stand," Zack said softly. He put a hand on each of his brothers' shoulders and squeezed.

"We were so close," Cody replied as he took aim at the closest of the approaching zombies.

"We aren't finished yet," Anthony announced, giving each of the twins an incredulous look. He pulled his small nine millimeter from its holster and shot the zombie Cody was aiming at in the face. It stumbled backward and fell, momentarily slowing the throng down. "Come on already!" he said as he shot again.

Their fatalism broken, Zack and Cody jumped to action. Zack began a slow withdrawal, peppering each step with a blast, and Cody led their retreat to the most defensible portion of the warehouse. He knocked over ladders and threw boxes and pushed large jacks across the floor to create a zombie obstacle course as they fell back. The air soon filled with the acrid smell of burnt gunpowder and their ears were ringing as they reached the back wall.

"Get against the wall, Anthony!" Zack yelled as he tossed the empty shotgun aside and pulled out his pistol. "Get behind us."

"I can still fight!"

"Get against the wall _now!_" Anthony complied, squatting down on one knee to get a clear shot through the twins' protective ring. Zack's distinctively loud gun rang out repeatedly until the clip ran empty. He ejected it and quickly slammed another home and began firing again. "One, two, three, four," he counted until he reached twelve. He stuck the gun in the back of his pants and picked a tire iron up from the floor.

"I'm out!" Cody shouted as his gun dry. He tossed it behind him and reached out for one of the large jacks he'd pushed around earlier. Quickly, he began unscrewing the long steel handle until it came off in his hands. He fell back two steps and joined his brothers, waiting for the horde to reach swinging distance.

"Come on, you fuckers," Zack muttered as he spun the tire iron around in his hand. "Come and get some!"

Cody ripped his shirt off and wrapped it around the handle and tied it tight. "Non-slip grip," he said as Anthony looked at him questioningly. He held the metal bar just off his shoulder like a batter awaiting a pitch and waited for the walkers to take the last few steps.

"Here we go!" Zack yelled as he swung, enjoying the hearty _crunch_ he heard when the end of the iron connected with the thing's skull. It fell but Zack was already turning and swinging at another before the first could hit the floor.

Time lost meaning as the boys fought for their lives. Muscles fatigued and their strength flagged but they couldn't stop. Zack threw a sweeping arc to his left and caught one in the neck before reversing his course and bringing the iron down on the top of another's head in a looping strike. Both fell. Cody swung upward and caught one in the jaw, sending it flying back into group. Someone was screaming but no one was sure who it was.

Sweat poured and black blood flowed but they stood their ground amidst the growing pool of zombie offal. _Mulch, _Cody thought randomly. _It looks like mulch._ He thrust from low to high, stabbing under a zombie's chin and coming out through the top of its head. He kicked out with a foot as he pulled back, freeing the pole.

"Zack! On your left! Cody, there's a crawler in front of you!" Anthony called out, his eyes searching for any threat that the others might have missed. A zombie with a crushed skull fell between the twins and Anthony worked to pull it out of their way, momentarily grimacing as his hand reached _through _it and he felt a wriggling mass beneath an open wound. He yanked his hand out and grabbed the corpse by the remains of its shirt and pulled it from beneath their feet.

The bodies began to pile up as the zombies began to dwindle. By the time they were down to a handful, Zack could barely lift his arms and Cody was doing more poking than swinging with his jack handle. When the last walker fell, it was all Zack and Cody could do to not join them on the ground.

"Let's get out of here," Cody finally said, discovering his throat was raw and figuring that it was him that had been screaming. He put an arm around Anthony's shoulders and let the boy guide him through the piles of fallen zombies.

Once they were outside, they collapsed onto the warm concrete. Cody rolled onto his back and showed his gore-streaked chest to the sky. Zack sat back against one of the closed bay doors with his head in his hands and his hair hanging over his face.

"Zack?" Anthony asked softly after they'd rested for a few moments.

"Yeah?"

"Why were you counting your shots in your last clip?"

It took a second for Zack's mind to process the question. "I was saving three bullets in case things didn't go well," he said as he pulled the pistol from behind his back and ejected the clip. He took out the remaining bullets and laid them on the ground, one pointing to each of them.

"Oh," Anthony said, visibly stunned at Zack's revelation.

"You weren't really planning on shooting us, were you?" Cody asked, looking up from beneath his hair.

"Yes. I was. If we were going down, I was going to make damn sure we stayed down."

"Wow," was all Cody could say.

"Would you rather roam around eating people until your muscles rot off, Cody? I wouldn't. That is the _last _thing I want." Zack put the three bullets back into the clip. "And while we're on the subject and since it obviously needs to be said, if I get bit I want one of you two to shoot me before I turn."

"I don't know if I could, Zack. Not until I knew you'd died at least."

"It might be too late by then, Cody. We haven't seen anyone get bit and change. It might take a few minutes or it might take hours. We don't know. I could be complaining about how one of the gomers finally got me and a second later I'm sinking my teeth into your neck." He looked over at Anthony. "If Cody can't or won't you have to do it, Anthony."

"I...okay, Zack."

"Promise me."

"I promise," Anthony said after the words seemed to get stuck in his throat for a few seconds.

"Let's take a step back here, you guys," Cody told them after he watched the exchange. "We almost died in there and everyone's nerves are a bit frayed so let's just calm down. We've made it this far and nothing, I repeat, _nothing, _is going to stop us from getting to the farm. Together. The three of us. All this talk about shooting each other is just nonsense because it's not going to happen." Cody abruptly stood up and headed back into the building.

"Where the hell are you going?" Zack called to his back.

"I'm getting the food and your shotgun if I can find it. I'm ready to get out of here," Cody said over his shoulder.

"Is he okay?" Anthony asked once Cody was inside.

"I hope so. He needs to be." Zack got to his feet and helped Anthony up. "Hopefully he's just a little spooked over what just happened and he'll get over it soon enough. Now come on, let's help him."

A moment later Zack and Cody came out carrying a large box and Anthony was dragging the opened third across the ground. They loaded one of the boxes of MREs in the back seat and put the other two in the trunk. Zack tried to engage Cody in conversation with Anthony's help but the younger twin was having none of it.

They had been on the road again for nearly an hour and the grating metal sound had nearly snapped Zack's nerve when Cody came out of his funk. "Pull off the highway," he said as he pointed at an exit.

"Huh? Why?"

"Because I just realized how stupid we've been," he told them.

"Care to explain that one?"

"We've been looking for cars with keys in them on the side of the road instead of looking where they come from. See that?" Cody pointed to a large red billboard with a stylized ram with an exit number below it.

"A dealership?" Anthony asked as he began to see Cody's logic.

"Yes. Cars, gas, and keys in one stop."

"We just tried the whole find-the-keys thing, Cody. Remember?"

"Quite well, actually."

"And you want to try it again?" Zack looked over at his brother and waited for his reasoning.

"Yes. This car is on its last legs and we need a new one. A dealership, hopefully, at least, will be more organized than some random garage."

Zack slowed down while he thought Cody's idea over and then turned off on the ramp. "We're going to be in and out of there in five minutes. No more. That's my condition to your idea. If we don't find where they keep the keys in that time, we'll go back to finding a car the old fashioned way. Okay?"

"That's fine with me," Cody told him and Anthony assented as well. "It'll work this time."

Zack worked the car the last mile and a half down the street before they saw their target. His forearms were straining against the wheel. Whatever had been grating before had obviously broken and it was becoming impossible for Zack to keep the car from pulling hard to the left.

"We're here," he said as the car ground to a stop in the parking lot. "You two have five minutes and they start right now. I'll watch the lot so we don't get surprised again. If you need help, just shoot and I'll be there."

Zack watched the two boys smash their way into the building and disappear behind a solid wall. He paced back and forth beside their car and wished he had something to wipe the zombie snot from the shotgun. He shook off as much as he could and wiped a bit more on his pants. He'd almost left it behind in the garage but couldn't part with it no matter how covered in filth it was. He'd clean it eventually.

Zack was about to check his watch when he saw movement inside the building. His eyes perked up and he instinctively thumbed the safety off before he realized it was only his brothers. He watched, puzzled, as they pointed between the cars and the glass of the showroom. "What are they doing?" he asked aloud. He was about to go find out for himself when Anthony, looking at Cody, pointed to the glass a final time. Cody shrugged and walked to a new Jeep and climbed in. Anthony swung himself in the other side and Zack waited for the magic moment when his brother turned the key. He couldn't help but pump his fist when Cody gunned the engine.

"Shit!" he yelled when he realized what Cody was planning. He took three giant steps to the side and turned his head just as the Jeep exploded through the plate glass and bounced into the lot. Zack couldn't help but grin as pieces of glass tinkled down on the blacktop. "I've always wanted to do that," he told them when Cody pulled up beside him and brushed a few stray pieces of broken glass from his lap.

"We couldn't figure out how they got the cars in there so we figured we'd just make our own door," Cody said, trying to hide a grin.

"Yeah, that, and it was too awesome not to do!" Anthony added, his face a billion-watt smile.

"I'll admit I'm a little jealous. Now let's load this bad boy up and get on the road," Zack said as Cody pulled the Jeep over beside their car's trunk. It was a tight fit but they got everything loaded in minutes with a little room to spare. Zack spat on the old car before he pulled himself into the Jeep.

"How much longer do you think we have?" Anthony asked once they were back on the highway and making good time again.

"No more than a few hours, I think," Cody told him. "Five at the most if I had to make a bet."

"Five hours," Zack repeated. "It's hard to believe we've come this far. We'll be at the farm by dinner time."

"Hopefully. Traffic could get bad or we might have to-"

"Five hours sounds good enough to me, Cody," Zack grinned as he relaxed into the seat. "If we reach six, you have to cook dinner when we get there."

"Let me check my menu...hmmm...Army rations. Yum yum yum."

Two of those hours had passed and they were on the far side of Kansas City when the calls of nature began to make themselves known. Anthony was fidgeting in the back and Cody felt like he had a bladder full of glass shards. _Rest Stop, One Mile _appeared on a blue road sign and both boys sighed with relief.

"You know, we really don't have to pull off to a rest stop these days," Zack said as his brother maneuvered the Jeep in its direction. "We could always just stop and pee on the side of the road."

"It's a throwback to when things were normal, I guess," Cody said.

"I don't have to pee," Anthony informed them, "and I'm a little tired of using leaves." Zack smirked.

"Rest stop it is," he said. A minute later he was pulling into one of the parking spots near the buildings. There was a smattering of cars on either side of them but aside from their idling engine the place was still. Cody shut the Jeep off and stepped down. He gingerly followed Anthony toward the men's building while Zack explored the nearby vending machines before deciding to join them.

A short while later they were all outside again, standing beside an overturned garbage can. They were all itching to get on the move again but were enjoying the feeling of stretching their legs. Aside from the few minutes they'd spent fighting for their lives in the garage, they'd been sitting in a car for most of the day. Anthony bent over and touched his toes and gave out contented sigh as his calves flexed.

"Well, shall we?" Cody asked after they'd wasted a few minutes.

"Yeah, I think so," Zack answered. "Somebody blew up the bathroom here and it's starting to smell," he said as he grinned at Anthony.

"No! It smelled like that when we got here," the boy retorted. "It was probably you-hey, that car over there has gas cans in the back."

"Yes it does," Cody said after he looked where Anthony was pointing.

"I'll get them," Anthony told them and started walking across the parking lot. Zack nearly followed after him but Cody held him back.

"Let him do it. He's strong enough. Besides, he probably feels like he needs to do his part to help out after earlier today," Cody said and Zack agreed.

Zack stepped back into the shadows of the building and was liberating himself a soda when he heard an all too familiar moan. "Oh you've got to be kidding me. Not again." He looked back through the buildings and saw a crowd advancing on them. "Fuck this."

"We've got to lead them away from Anthony and then double back to the Jeep!" Cody screamed. "Hey! Hey!" he picked up a glass bottle and threw it at the ground in front of him. "Yeah, that got their attention."

"Anthony, stay there. We'll draw them off and then come back for you!" Zack yelled and saw the boy's wide eyed face nod in response. The twins ran at the zombies and then zagged to the left. The vast majority of the corpses followed them while the others seemed unable to decide which warm body to go after.

"There's a couple of fast zombies behind us," Cody huffed as they raced down the sidewalk. Zack risked a glance back over his shoulder and saw that Cody was right. There were four or five zombies steadily pulling away from the pack. They wouldn't catch them unless they were seriously gassed but it was an unpleasant thought nonetheless.

"Runners. Not what I wanted to see. I was hoping that the last time we saw them it was a one time thing."

"Apparently not. Come on, let's loop around that semi."

Anthony watched as the two boys dashed and took nearly all the zombies with them. His mouth dropped open when he saw them head for the tractor trailer and another group of zombies behind it. "No no no!" he yelled as he began running for the Jeep. Anthony slung the one good gas can he'd found in the back and pulled himself into the driver's seat.

"How hard can it be?" he asked himself as snapped on his seat belt and started the vehicle. Anthony slammed the gearshift into reverse and backed out of the spot in a cloud of tire smoke. "Awesome!" he yelled as he slewed the Jeep around and threw it into drive. He stomped the pedal and laid his hand on the horn. The twins turned their heads around just before they reached the truck and changed their course to meet him further down the road.

Anthony hit a curb at about forty miles an hour and jumped a grassy median. The Jeep bounced hard and the boy nearly lost his grip on the wheel but still whooped with glee as he clipped two of the slower runners and sent them into the bushes. He slowed down as he approached the twins and let them climb in. Pulling the wheel hard to the left, Anthony made a tight turn and raced back up the road and headed toward the highway on ramp.

The manic smile that had been plastered to the boy's face finally faded into a grin once they merged on the Interstate. "Oh man," he said as he slowed down to a more reasonable thirty, "that was awesome!"

Zack, who had been white-knuckling the roll bar for the last twenty seconds, laughed as he strapped himself in. "That was some nice driving, kid. Better than Cody, actually." He ruffled the boy's hair.

"I'll stop up here and let one of you guys drive," Anthony said. "If you want," he added, obviously hoping that they didn't.

Zack and Cody looked at each other. "No, I think you've earned a little time behind the wheel," Cody told him. "As long as things don't get ugly and you can keep the car pointing forward, it's all yours."

"Thanks, Cody!" he replied and smiled at him.

"Hey! Eyes on the road, rookie," Cody barked playfully.

_Moving sucks. I think I'd rather face an army of zombies than pack one more damn box. Anyway, sorry this took so long but things are busy in my world right now. There's one more chapter to go and hopefully it won't take so long to get done. Thanks for reading!_


	23. Chapter 23

"I'll tell you what, guys," Anthony said as he was craning his neck to look out over the top of the steering wheel, "this beats playing Mario Kart by a million miles any day." Cody dared to turn his eyes away from the road ahead of them long enough to catch the boy having the time of his life.

"You've done okay, Anthony, I'll admit," Cody told him before turning his attention back to the highway.

"No, he's done a lot better than that," Zack interjected. "I say he drove better than you did on your first time. Unless I'm mistaken, you ripped the mirror off the side of your first truck and then, did I ever tell you this story, Anthony? I don't think I did." Zack looked at his brother with a smirk.

"No, I don't think so. What did he do?"

"Well, Cody ripped the mirror off the truck and then he flipped it a little while later."

"Wow," Anthony said, eyes big.

"I'd like to add in the fact that I had help wrecking the truck. We hit a spike strip and it blew the tires out and then, yeah, I flipped the truck."

"You did?" he looked at Cody briefly and Cody couldn't miss the smirk.

"He sure did. The truck was on its roof and we were hanging upside down until we got unbuckled. I won't lie, looking back on it, it was kind of fun. Sort of like one of those crazy roller coasters." Zack lightly nudged the boy in the shoulder and they grinned.

Antony had driven for almost half an hour after their incredible escape from the rest stop and its parking lot of zombies and he went on for another five minutes before he slowed and pulled the Jeep over to the side of the road.

"You okay?" Zack asked from the back seat.

"I'm good. Just starting to get sore. This Jeep wasn't meant to be driven by a little short kid like me." He rolled his neck on his shoulders and both twins heard the pop. "The traffic is getting heavier, too. Maybe one of you guys should drive." He turned the engine off and flopped against the seat.

"You can be my navigator if you want, Anthony," Cody told him as he opened the door and stepped down to the ground to stretch his legs.

"I've been demoted to the back seat for good, haven't I?" Zack asked playfully as he sipped from a bottle.

"I'll sit back there if you want," Anthony offered as he hopped down.

"Nah, I'll be okay as the bombardier." A light that Cody hadn't seen since his brother was firing the big machine gun on the tank flashed across Zack's eyes and he knew without a shadow of a doubt what was going through the boy's eyes. "Or I could be the gunner." In his mind, Zack was standing in the doorway of some military vehicle that smelled of grease and gun smoke, smoldering cigar stuffed in the corner of his mouth while he pounded away at the zombies with large caliber rounds, spent shell casings flying off into the air in slow motion.

"Or you could be that," Cody smirked and shook his head. "If we come across a pack of zombies you can hang out the window like a dog and unload on them.

"I don't think they _pack _is the right word to use when they're together like that," Anthony told them after a few seconds of contemplation.

"Why's that?"

"Pack, to me at least, says that they're smart and hunting. Like a pack of dogs or a pack of wolves. I don't think that's what they're doing. They're more like...a herd, I guess. One zombie turns to the left and the rest of them follow that one. Like cows or sheep."

"That makes sense," Cody said after he thought it over. "Who would have ever thought that we'd be sitting around naming groups of zombies," his eyes glanced at a road sign a few hundred feet further up the road, "five miles from Kettlekorn, Kansas."

"Kettlekorn?" Zack parroted as he looked at the sign. "Kettlekorn? Really? What's next up the highway? Clown Car?"

"Big Top," Anthony said. "Definitely Big Top."

"Nice one," Zack laughed. "And after that is Trapeze Artist."

"What in the world are you two talking about?" Cody asked, having lost his way in the conversation.

"We're naming circus things, Cody. Making fun of the city's name."

"Right," he told them as he shook his head. "Anyway..." Cody walked around the front of the Jeep and stood by the driver's door. "Elephant Pooper Scooper?" he offered, trying to join their game.

"Oh, I'm sorry but no. Our judges would have accepted Fire Eater or Bearded Lady. We have a lovely parting gift for you," Zack told him in his best game show host voice as he pointed to the inside of the Jeep. "Let's go." Zack climbed in the back and closed the door while he waited for his brothers to get settled.

They were on the road shortly and the circus banter continued for another three miles before it began to wear itself out. It was replaced with comments about how ominous the sky was looking as they drove. It had changed from a crystal clear blue to an ugly shade of bruise within minutes.

"That looks nasty," Zack announced as he leaned forward to look through the windshield.

"I've only seen it be that color in movies," Anthony said as he squinted into the distance. "They're usually disaster movies."

"No kidding. Maybe we should find a place to pull over and sit it out for a while."

"Nah, Cody, we'll be fine," Zack informed him. Cody, far from reassured, kept driving, one eye on the road and the other on the sky as fat raindrops began splattering against the glass. He flicked on the wipers. All three of the boys jumped when the rain suddenly turned to hail and pelted the Jeep.

"This is getting better and better," Cody muttered as he drove on. He turned the wipers to their top speed and discovered it wasn't much help. He settled a little lower in the seat as the hail's intensity increased and hammered on the roof.

The sky somehow turned even uglier and Zack looked up and caught his brother's eyes in the rear view mirror and was about to suggest they might want to find a nice, solid building to wait this storm out in when the words died on his tongue. Above and ahead of them, a large swath of clouds had begun to spin. Zack looked out both windows for something, anything, and saw a handful of houses a mile or so off the highway.

"I see them, Zack," Cody told him. Zack wasn't sure if he meant the clouds or the houses but Cody yanked the wheel to the right and started bouncing the Jeep down an embankment and over a field of tall grasses on his way to an access road that paralleled the highway. They caught a second of air after a particularly large bump and Zack's teeth clacked together when they landed.

They bounded onto the road and Cody slewed the Jeep around a corner, nearly losing control on the layer of hail that had coated the road. "Shit!" He mumbled as he fought to maintain control. He picked the closest house and floored it, sparing the clouds behind him a peek in the side mirror. Cody swallowed hard and hoped they'd get there first.

Cody pulled into the house's yard, slamming on the brakes and swearing as the tires did nothing but dig up the ground as they slid. Grass and mud and chunks of hail flew everywhere. They finally came to a stop nearly one hundred feet from the house. Cody and the others threw themselves from the Jeep and dashed for the door in the howling wind. He and Anthony slipped in the wet grass and came up covered in mud and muck while Zack stayed upright and charged straight for the house.

Zack lowered his shoulder and rammed the door, hoping it would break but discovering it was sturdier than it looked and bounced off. He pushed the other boys back out of the way and was about to pull his pistol to blast the lock apart when he caught a glimpse of the sky over his shoulder and paused.

"Jeeeeez," he said aloud, his voice barely heard in the gale. A few miles away, three at the most, a gigantic funnel was reaching down from the deep green sky. Debris almost instantly began spiraling up into the vortex. _A lot of something, _he thought as he stared transfixed at the sight. He looked over at his brothers and saw that they couldn't tear their eyes away either.

The funnel had halved the distance when the first zombie fell from the sky in the yard behind them. Zack looked up and saw another punch through the roof of the neighboring house. He smiled with black humor as he saw quite a few five-pointed objects spinning through the air. "Now I have officially seen everything," he said as he raised the pistol and blew the door open. "Get in!" he ushered them inside and closed the door just as another zombie impacted on the concrete patio behind him, showering the door and steps with gore.

The three boys ran through the house on a mad search for a door to a basement but didn't find one in their rush. "Interior wall!" Cody screamed to be heard over the wailing wind. "Zack, help me drag that mattress out into the hallway!" Zack looked at him and pointed to his ears so Cody dragged him into the bedroom by the arm. Together they manhandled the unwieldy mattress out of the room and buried themselves and Anthony under it.

Cody had heard the sound of a tornado bearing down on you described as being in a tunnel with a train at full speed or standing beside a jet's engine but had always thought it was an exaggeration. He quickly realized he was wrong as he could hear almost nothing else even with his hands clasped over his ears. He could barely hear Anthony screaming and their faces were mere inches apart. He pulled the smaller boy closer and under his own body and felt him latch on tight.

They weren't sure how long the roaring continued, maybe seconds, maybe hours, but it seemed endless. The house vibrated around them and all three boys' ears popped rapidly as the air pressure changed. Cody could no longer hear anything but the sound of the storm but could feel things raining down on their mattress and bouncing off.

The maddening din finally began to decrease and the boys worked to push their shield to the side and stand up. Plaster dust filled the air but they could clearly see that the better part of the house was no longer there. Pipes jutted out angrily from the concrete foundation and here and there splintered remnants of the wall still stood.

"Holy shit," Zack whistled and that summed it up. "Half the house is gone." He strode through the layer of debris that had filled the hallway, kicking a fallen picture out of the way as he approached what had been the kitchen. "Maybe we should have left a window open or something," he said in an attempt to lighten the mood.

"No, that doesn't really help," Cody told him. "If a tornado decides it wants to rip your roof off, it'll rip it off if you open a window or not." He and Anthony joined Zack in the ruined kitchen and stared out with amazement into the yard.

Zack's first thought when they stepped outside was that they'd walked right into Oz but not in a good way. Everything they could see had been ripped to shreds. A tall oak tree that Zack vaguely remembered seeing in his dash had been ripped to pieces. Someone's hot tub had partially buried itself in the garage to their right. A fence had seemingly come apart over the house, sprinkling broken white pickets everywhere.

"This place is fucked," Zack said. Each house he could see had been destroyed in the storm.

"What about the Jeep?" Anthony asked and Zack's heart stopped. He'd forgotten it in the aftermath of the storm. Their gear was probably spread across four states by now.

"I'm almost afraid to look," he told the boy.

Anthony started walking around the remaining parts of the house to where they'd parked it, flinging a streamer of mud from his arm as he suddenly realized how filthy he was. He poked his head around the last corner and stopped. "You guys are not going to believe this," he said with a laugh and the twins quickly followed him.

"No way," Cody said as he took in the sight. Their Jeep sat before them, nearly completely unscathed except for a zombie that smashed into the roof. "Absolutely no way," he repeated. He walked around the Jeep looking for any damage but found nothing but a few scratches where it had been hit by flying debris.

"How is that even possible?" Zack asked as he inspected the zombie damage.

"Scientists have no idea, Zack. One house can be lifted right off its foundation and flung across the county and the one right next to it isn't even touched."

"Ridiculous," Zack told them as he tugged on the zombie's body in an attempt to get it off the roof.

"Ridiculous or not, we still have all our stuff and a way to get out of here. Once we get rid of that thing, of course."

"Well, Cody," Zack said with a grunt, "it'll be gone a lot faster if I had some help here. It's stuck in the roof."

"Just take the roof off," Anthony advised. "The zombie punched a big hole in it anyway."

"Smart kid," Zack grinned and began working out how to remove the roof panel.

A short while later they had created a convertible and Zack put it into gear and gently pulled away from the remains of the house. He was careful to avoid the part of a picnic table in front of them or any of the other large objects that now littered the ground.

He weaved through the street as he tried to find a main road that would lead them to some sort of town and hopefully somewhere they could resupply. They had plenty of food but they were almost out of water. _And a certain two somebodies could due with a bath if we can swing it, too, _he thought to himself as he looked over and saw his filthy brothers. _I'm a little ripe myself, _he added.

"Keep your eyes peeled for any place we can get our stuff," he told the two as he managed to skirt around an uprooted tree. Two side streets later he'd found the main road he was looking for and less than five seconds had passed before he saw the welcoming Wal-Mart sign. They pulled into the parking lot and did a slow circle around the building but saw nothing moving aside from a stray cat.

"Clothes, water, and we're out of here," Zack told them as he parked the Jeep in a handicapped spot near the door.

"No ammo on that list?"

"Not unless it's near the front of the store, Cody." He picked the shotgun up and relished its feel against his palm. The pistol was workable but this felt better. Felt _right. _ "Actually, we might take a walk back that way after all."

"Why the change of heart?" Cody whispered as they flanked the doors.

"Bow and arrows."

"Really?"

"Really. I don't know why it never occurred to me before," Zack said softly. "They should be just as effective if you hit them in the head and they're silent. Now let's go."

They crept inside and grabbed a cart from the corral. Zack took a second to get his bearings and led them to the left and to the clothes. As before, Zack stood guard while Cody and Anthony worked quickly, piling the cart with things that looked close to their proper sizes. They filled it halfway in two minutes and they were done.

Anthony called a halt and put a hand to his ear and the twins went silent. He nodded and pointed to the aisle behind the one they were in. "Right there," he mouthed and looked at Zack with questioning eyes as he gestured to the gun on his waist. Zack shook his head hard and pointed further down their aisle.

"Not unless we have to," he said just loud enough to be heard. They made as little noise as possible as they walked to where the water should be. Cody made a face as they looked at the one bottle of water left on the shelves and had to suppress a derisive snort. He placed it in the cart with a shrug and they walked on back to the sporting goods section of the store.

"What kind of bow do you want, Zack?" Cody asked as they stood before the display.

"I have no idea," he replied. He examined one, his eyes working out how to adjust the pull in seconds. "This one looks good. Grab a couple of others and we'll go over them at the farm."

"Have you ever shot a bow before?" Anthony queried as he picked one up.

"Nope. Probably wouldn't hurt to know how, though." Zack set the bow in the cart and set about grabbing all the arrows he could see. The other two boys selected bows and dropped them in the cart along with Zack's. "Let's go," he told them as he dumped an armload of arrows in along with everything else.

They strayed close to the grocery area as they made their way to the front of the store and had to cover their noses when the scent of rot reached them. Cody felt his stomach do a back flip and swallowed hard.

"That's not just moldy lettuce," Anthony said as he cautiously walked forward. His small hand was already digging under his shirt for his pistol as he kneeled down.

"I think you're rubbing off on him, Zack," Cody whispered as they followed the boy.

"Yeah, well I had to do something. Couldn't let him grow up exactly like you now, could I?"

"I guess not." A sheet of red covered the floor between two rows of refrigerated cases and the remains of two bodies lay in pieces near what had once been frozen pizzas. Zack turned his head and took a deep breath.

"Why aren't they zombies?" Anthony asked as he stood up.

"I guess because there wasn't enough left to reanimate," Cody told him as he walked over to the bodies. Clouds of flies flitted aimlessly as he approached.

"This is why I don't like being in places like this," Zack said. "I'm willing to bet that they were doing the same thing we are but they got jumped." He looked around nervously.

"This blood isn't dry, Zack." Cody pulled his foot from the floor and they all heard the sticky sound of it coming free. Almost as if on cue, the boys heard a groan from a few aisles behind them. Something metallic clattered to the floor.

"Field trip is over, kids," Zack announced as he pulled the shotgun from his shoulder and directed Anthony to push the cart while he and Cody covered him. "Nice and easy. The main corridor is two or three rows over and then we're at the door."

Not knowing how many walkers were in the building, stealth was their utmost need. As much as Zack wanted to put them all down, getting into a battle against unknown odds was deadly. He walked backwards behind the others, surveying the store.

"The door is just ahead on our right," Cody turned and whispered and Zack nodded. He raised the shotgun into position, sure that something would complicate their escape. He swept the barrel back and forth and breathed a sigh of relief as he heard Cody pushing the door open. Zack flicked beads of sweat from his forehead once they stepped outside.

"You okay, Zack?"

"I'm fine, Anthony. I always get a little nervous when we're in a place like that. So many directions they could come at us from."

The cart was pushed over near the Jeep and the boys began sifting through their loot. Cody took off his shoes and stepped out of his mud-caked pants and pulled on a pair of camouflaged cargo shorts and grinned when he saw Anthony pulling up a pair that was almost the same.

"Now we're twins, too, Cody," the boy said.

"Like the Danny DeVito and Arnold sort of twins," Zack told him. "You're Arnold, of course. Just the really young version."

"Huh?"

"Kids these days. Don't you watch the classic movies anymore?"

"I hate to break it to you, Zack, but _Twins_ is about as far from a classic as _Throw Momma From the Train _is."

"Cody, you obviously have no idea what you're talking about. They're both classics."

"Definitely not."

"Definitely so. You have zero credibility because you said, and I quote, _Doggy Come Home _was a masterpiece."

"I was twelve."

"Cody? I hate to say it but I'm going to have to agree with Zack. I saw that movie when I was like eight and thought it was terrible."

"Whatever," Cody said, dismissing their arguments with a wave of his hand. "You're both cinematic Philistines."

"I don't even know what that means," Zack admitted, "so let's just get changed and get out of here. If we hurry we can still make it to the farm by dinner time."

There was a pile of discarded clothes next to the Jeep when they were finished sorting and dressing. Some were sweat covered and stained and smelled terrible while others were fresh and clean but the wrong size. As much as they wanted to, the boys added the water they'd found to their supply instead of cleaning up with it.

"We can take a bath in the creek when we get to the farm," Cody told them while they were debating it. "Not to mention we can just boil the water so we don't have to keep going to find more when we need it."

"That'll be good, one less thing for us to worry about." Zack tossed their bag of new clothes into the back of the Jeep and climbed in the driver's seat. Cody and Anthony piled in and he pulled out. The highway on-ramp was a few miles down the road and he could feel himself growing anxious the closer they got. What would they find when they finally got to the farm? Would his aunt be there? Was she still alive? Was the farm even still there? He sighed as all the possibilities ran through his mind.

"What's up?" Cody asked from the backseat.

"Just thinking about what might be ahead of us."

"Mom and Aunt Jolene?"

"Exactly. Mom might be there or might not but what about Aunt Jo? What if we pull up and she wants to greet us with a nibble on our throats?"

"Then we have to put her down," Cody said with authority.

"What if Mom is there and she got infected?"

Cody wasn't as quick to answer this time. "Then we have to put her down, too. She won't be Mom anymore, just a mindless monster that happens to look like her."

Zack leaned back against the headrest. "I don't even want to think about having to do it."

"If it comes to it, I'll do it," Anthony offered from the passenger seat. "I don't want to but I'll do it so neither of you have to."

"Thanks, buddy," Zack told him as he patted the boy's leg. "But it's not going to be an issue because she's not going to be infected." _Or probably even there_, he added to himself.

That was the root of everything that had been bothering him. He and Cody, and Anthony as well, had made it because they were all young and adaptable. And lucky. Incredibly lucky. His mother was, to be bluntly honest, pushing forty and not in the best shape and not used to anything more strenuous than a double show on a Saturday night. Yes, they'd met up with those Army guys and they'd seen her out of New York City, but that was over a thousand miles ago.

Zack had continued to believe that she'd make it out and meet them in Kansas because he wished it to be true and because that's what Cody needed to hear. Was it possible she could make the journey? Of course it was. Was it _likely_? Not as much. He would never say anything like that to either Cody or Anthony but it was always there in the back of his mind. Zack drummed his fingers on the top of the steering wheel.

Cody pulled the battered and stained address book from his bag and began flipping through it. "You know," he said, "I'm going to be really pissed if Aunt Jolene's address isn't in here after all."

"What?" Zack said and jerked his head around. The Jeep swerved and he turned his attention back to the road. "You mean to tell me that we've had the book the entire time and you never thought to look in it?"

"No, it never occurred to me," he said as he flipped through it.

"Cody, I swear to-"

"Relax, here it is. We could have found it anyway. It just would have taken a little longer. Mom even left directions for us. Okay, probably for herself but whatever. We turn off Highway 156 and drive for a while," he said as he did his best to decipher his mother's scrawl

"It's a good thing you looked at it now since we just passed a sign saying we're going to hit 156 in about eight miles."

"Zack?" Cody asked after a mile of silence passed.

"Hmm?"

"What do you think we're going to find when we get there?"

"Well, the rosy version of it will have us pull in and we'll see Mom and Aunt Jo and her half-elephant dog sitting on the patio with a hot apple pie and a pizza waiting for us. What I'm hoping we'll find is either Mom or Aunt Jolene at the house, maybe both, and we'll have MREs for dinner." Zack stopped and looked out the window. "Do you want me to tell you what I expect we'll find?"

"I do."

"I...think we're going to find an empty house." Zack censored his next words and said no more.

"Do you think your mom will make it there eventually, Zack?" Anthony asked him after a few seconds.

"I honestly don't know. I hope so but that's about all I can say. We'll wait for her as long as we can. After that, well, I haven't thought that far ahead yet."

Zack looked into the mirror out of the corner of his eye to try to judge his brother's reaction but Cody had put on an impassive face.

"We'll have to leave the farm one way or another eventually," he finally said. "We can't stay there over the winter. Hopefully Mom will be with us when we leave."

Their exit came up as Cody was speaking and Zack turned off the Interstate. Aside from directions being given, not a word was said as they slowly drove down the back roads. Anthony could feel the tension growing as they neared the farm but didn't dare speak. He'd never even met the woman but he wanted her to be there as badly as the twins did. He leaned forward slightly in his seat and looked harder out the windshield.

"Back up, that was it," Cody said as they drove past a mailbox at the end of a long, winding driveway.

"Shit," Zack muttered as he stopped and put the Jeep into reverse. He goosed the pedal and gravel sprayed the undercarriage. He instinctively ducked and hoped no one noticed once he realized what it was. He turned into the driveway and stopped and turned around.

"We're going to drive up and take a look around the property before we take a look at the house, got it? I'm not going to get chewed on while we knock on the door." The other boys agreed to the plan and Zack drove on, keeping the needle on the speedometer pegged at five miles per hour.

Three sets of eyes scanned everything there was to see as they came to a stop. Zack turned the Jeep off and grabbed the shotgun from between the seats. As he stepped out, all three boys noticed the eerie quiet. With hand gestures, Zack pointed behind the house and they carefully advanced. They fanned out as they walked toward the creek but came up with nothing.

The barn was next on their list to explore but the only thing in there worth notice were the dog food bags that had been ripped open. "Looks like Spot helped himself," Zack said quietly as he looked at the shredded paper.

"Either Spot or a raccoon or something," Cody answered.

"No, probably Spot," Zack said as he pointed to an extra-large pile of shit further back in the barn. "That's almost as big as a raccoon."

"It it fresh?" Anthony asked as he looked back out into the yard.

"Fresh? I don't-wait, that's actually a good question," Zack admitted as he walked over and toed the pile with the tip of his boot. "Rather fresh. But since I'm not a shitologist, I'm not sure how old it is."

"So maybe the dog is still here after all," Anthony said. "And if the dog is here..."

"Don't get ahead of yourself," Zack told him and gave the boy a reassuring pat on the shoulder even though he wanted to believe as well. He turned to leave the barn and froze in his tracks when he heard a deep growl. His eyes jumped to the right and he saw a shaggy matte black shape sauntering up the path from the creek.

"What the hell is that?" Anthony squeaked as he took an involuntary step back.

"That is Spot," Cody told him.

"Your aunt was either blind or had a very interesting sense of humor when she named him," the boy replied as the dog made its way to the barn and joined them.

"Definitely the latter," Cody said as he knelt down and rubbed the massive dog's head. "There's a good boy." He stood back up and the dog moved over to Zack and Anthony and gave them a healthy sniff.

"He probably thinks we smell great," Zack said as he rubbed the dog's muzzle. Anthony gently reached out and stroked the beast's back.

"I think we can rest easy now," Cody told them. "If Spot is acting normal, I'd say it's a pretty good sign that there aren't any walkers around here." Zack nodded and looked at the house.

"Ready?"

"Let's do it." The dog followed at their heels as they approached the steps to the door. Zack shouldered the shotgun and pulled out his pistol, the tight confines of the house making it a better choice in case of a firefight. He pulled the screen door open and turned the knob on the storm door, finding it unlocked. He gave it a slight turn and pushed it open with the barrel of the pistol.

Zack heard nothing as he stepped into his aunt's house but he still took slow steps, clearing first the mudroom and then the kitchen. He'd taken one step into the hallway leading out of the kitchen when Spot came barreling past him and darted into the living room. The boys followed the dog into the room.

"Down, boy. Get down already," Zack heard. That voice. His mother's voice. His heart leapt into his throat as he stepped into the living room.

"Mom?" he gasped, his voice rising an octave.

Carey, looking disheveled and freshly awoken, sat up in a flash and saw Cody come in behind his brother and a much smaller boy peek around them. "Zack? Cody?" she threw the light blanket she'd curled up with off her body and jumped to her feet. Zack shoved the pistol in his pocket and Cody absently tossed his aside and they rushed to her and were enveloped in a hug.

"I can't believe it," Carey said between sobs of joy. "You made it. You actually made it." She squeezed again before releasing her bear hug and held them at arms length and studied them. "You've grown so much since I last saw you," Carey told them. Cody wiped his wet cheeks dry with the back of his hand.

"Not that much, Mom. We still only come up to your chin," Zack told her.

"That's not exactly how I meant it, honey. You just look older. More worldly."

She hugged them again before turning to their companion. "And this must be Anthony," she said as motioned him over.

"Hello, Ms. Martin," he replied sheepishly.

"Wait a second...How do you know that, Mom?" Zack asked incredulously.

"Motherly intuition," she told her son with a smile and Zack was prepared to believe it. "No, in all honesty, I ran across some people in Louisville that met you." She turned back to Anthony and gave him an endearing smile. "I'd like to thank you for shepherding these two on the way here. I'm sure they were more than a handful."

"They weren't that bad. Send them to bed with no dessert and they straighten right up," he said bashfully, suddenly discovering something interesting on the ground in front of him and not seeing her cross the room and scoop him up into a hug.

"You didn't think you were getting away without one, did you?" she said when she finally put him back down on the floor.

"I figured that I'd let your sons get all they could handle first, Ms. Martin," he told her as Cody put an arm around his shoulders.

"Nonsense, kid, you have to deal with them, too. You're part of this family now," Cody told him.

Carey stepped back and looked the three of them over again. "I still can't believe we're all here," she said as she pushed her hair back. "Just can't believe it." She shook her head.

Cody leaned in for another hug. "Mom, we can't believe that you're here."

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?" she said as she ruffled his hair.

"Well, um...you, um.."

"It's okay, Cody, I understand. Sometimes I can't believe that I'm here either. Some of the things I've seen and done." Her gaze drifted off for a bit as her mind replayed selected scenes from her trip across the country. "There's a few times I didn't think I'd make it."

"Same here, Mom," Zack admitted. "We did our fair share of things that still make me shiver."

"Oh the stories we have to tell," Carey mused and wrapped all three of them in yet another embrace.

_Finally! I always forget how November is my craziest and busiest month and plan all sorts of things to do in its 30 days and usually end up completing none of them. Anyway, Halflife is over now and I kind of already miss it. That means that there will most likely end up being a sequel to it sometime down the road in addition to the "lost chapters" that I cut out of this story for various reasons. Neither will likely happen any time soon since I want some time away from the story, have a few smaller things I want to do before the year's out,_ and _have__ a Star Wars crossover in mind for my Next Big Thing (probably kicking off in January). _

_Thanks again for putting up with me for 120K or so words and for all your reviews. I appreciate it! _


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